The Darker Side
by RixxiSpooks
Summary: No one knew much about the darker side of Much's past, not even Robin. But when someone appears from his past and puts one of the outlaws' lives in danger, suddenly everyone wants to know.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, brand new story here! Yay! I just realised they'd finally made an actual category for BBC Robin Hood! Whoopee! So heres the story...**

Much had once had a family. They had lived in a small village called Galeton to the south of Nottingham by over sixty miles.

As a young boy Much had had a difficult childhood. His father had hated him. He was useless in his eyes. That's how he actually gained the name Much, for that was not his birth name. His birth name was Madoc but his father often referred to him as 'our son, though he's not much,' which was gradually shortened to Much and it stuck.

His father had abused him terribly and his mother had stood by and done nothing even when Much was more bruise than boy. The child's face was constantly a mess and often neighbours commented on it, several tried to help, but they always met his father's fury and fled, leaving the poor child alone.

Much had a brother. He didn't remember much of him for he had been five when Much ran away but he hadn't born the brunt of his father's anger as much because he was too young.

At the age of ten, the young Much decided he'd had enough of his father's brutality and, wrapping himself in what little clothes he had, he left the small hut he'd called home for that first dreadful decade of his life.

He had headed north though he wasn't quite sure why, he just wanted to get as far away from his father as possible. Who knew what the man would do once he realised his eldest son was gone. If he ever found Much again the boy was sure he would kill him. He had felt guilty for leaving his little brother as he would probably experience a similar fate to Much but he had to get away.

The child found the Great North Road and began the long, hard slog along the dusty track. He had travelled for days with little water and no food, exhaustion overcoming his weak body; he had collapsed on the edge of the road.

* * *

It was at this point that Lord of Locksley, Earl of Huntingdon was travelling along the road on a horse from a meeting in London. He spotted the bundle of rags that was Much on the ground and took pity on the boy who was no more than a bag of bones. 

The man picked the child up and placed him on his horses back behind him. The boy spent the rest of the journey to Locksley weakly holding onto his saviour's waist.

* * *

It was late and upon arriving at his home the Lord brought Much in, had him washed and dressed in clean clothes and then fed in the kitchen by his trusted servant, Adeline. The middle aged friendly woman took the skinny youth under her wing immediately. 

Whilst the newcomer was finishing his fourth bowl of stew a boy of about eight appeared, barefoot, in the flagstone floored kitchen. He rubbed his vivid blue eyes sleepily and frowned at the boy sitting at the pine table.

"Who are you?" he demanded, "And what are you doing in my home?"

"Master Robin," Adeline laughed good naturedly at the child's boldness, "This is Much. He is to be a new servant here at Locksley Manor. He is your personal man, or boy, servant and friend."

"A servant, for me?" Robin struggled with the concept, "Why should I need a servant of my own. I have you and Thornton."

"Ah, but Much is also to be your friend. Your father knows you are lonely so he brought someone to be company."

"Ok," the tiny Robin considered this for a second, "You are my servant and my friend…Much." He spoke directly to the older boy.

"Er…" Much looked at the bright eyed boy nervously, "Yes, I am…Master."

"Master Robin, you should really be going back to bed now, what did you come down for?" Adeline asked kindly.

"Water. I came for a cup of water."

"Well, here you are and off you go."

"Is Much coming?" Robin queried.

"No, he is going to eat some more and you will see him in the morning."

"Yes, he should eat some more," the boy agreed, "He is very thin. Goodnight Adeline and Much."

"Night, Master Robin," the servants replied and Robin padded away.

* * *

Soon after that, in the days, weeks and months to come the boys became inseparable both as friends and as servant and master. Much took his job to look after his young master very seriously and always made sure he was home on time from the meadows and ate all his meals. He was fiercely loyal and no matter how many scraps Robin got into with the village boys he was always there in the thick of it, defending his master even at that young age. 

The ten year old barely ever again spared a thought for the family he had left in Galeton. He didn't want to remember.

* * *

The young man pulled his hood over his head a stared through deadened eyes at the steady hustle and bustle of Nottingham's busy marketplace. He scowled at a smiling man yelling about his crunchy apples and beautiful pears and juicy blackberries. His dark brown eyes narrowed at the drunk men gambling on some tables outside an inn. And his heart clenched in envy at a man swinging his giggling daughter round in circles, blowing raspberries. 

He hated happiness, joy, celebration and love. He had never experienced those things in his life and therefore, rather than crave them, he loathed them. They were what he despised – emotions. Good for nothing.

The man had come to Nottingham searching for a job. A job under the evil Guy of Gisborne he had heard so much about and he longed to meet the cruel and twisted Sheriff of the Shire. They were his idols. They were men of power that commanded respect and that's what he wanted. And the only way of getting respect he had known in all his life was to hurt and terrorise others. Usually those weak and defenceless.

Suddenly the cloaked figure heard a menacing voice and he looked up to see a tall, imposing leather clad figure towering over the man and the daughter he'd seen earlier. It was Gisborne.

"Well, well, well, Simon, we haven't been paying our taxes recently have we?"

"Sir Guy! Please! I do not have enough money to support my family let alone pay your taxes. How can I give you money if I have none?" the man pleaded.

"You have no money yet you seem to still have time to play with your daughter? A likely story. Arrest him," Gisborne signalled the soldiers forwards and they seized the struggling man.

"Please! My wife! My daughters!" the man cried out but was silenced by a club to the head from one of the guards.

"Take him to the dungeons," Gisborne ordered and began to leave.

The stranger saw his moment and darted out from the shadows to confront Gisborne. Guy was momentarily startled as a cloaked person stepped out in front of him and spoke.

"What do you want, whelp?"

"Sir Guy, I come from afar to become one of your soldiers in the battle against injustice."

"You are a street urchin, what would I do with you?" Gisborne sneered nastily.

"Sir, I can fight, very well. Would you let me become a soldier?"

"Let me see your face first. I need to see who I'm employing."

The man pulled back his hood slowly and revealed a young, angular face that was marred by a long thin scar curving from his temple to his check. The man could be no more than seventeen or eighteen years of age but he had a hardened look to his steel coloured eyes and strong wiry muscles beneath his clothing. Gisborne immediately came to a decision.

"How well can you _really _fight, boy?" the Man at Arms barked, "Fight one of my men here and if you beat him you may become a guard. Do you need a weapon?"

"No," the young man unsheathed a sword from beneath his billowing cloak and eyed up his opponent almost casually.

Gisborne's' guard sighed, Lewis. He doubted this would be much of a battle considering the boy way very small and thin and most likely had little experience.

"Give me what you've got then, kid," he grunted but was shocked when the boy leapt forward so fast he had no time to react. The youth knocked the weapon from his grip and the next thing he knew there was the cold edge of a sword at his throat.

"Impressive. Now. Kill him. Or don't you have the balls?" Gisborne laughed but halted as his guard fell, dead, on the ground, blood pouring from his slit throat. That did it. "I guess I'll have to employ you now, won't I? As I'm down a man. What's your name?"

"Eli."

**What do you think? I've written the next chapter but I want you're opinion. Good? Bad? Not much is based on real fact about Much's past but some is. Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you to all those that reviewed! I love you guys! Some of Much's rabbit all over though I'm not sure thats a good thing. **

Over the next few weeks Eli grew up the ranks in Gisborne's favour. He was young, fit and a very good fighter. He seemed to be scared of nothing and no one and was the perfect protégé. Even the Sheriff seemed to like him on their first meeting by which time Eli had progressed with lightening speed to sergeant despite the annoyance of all the other soldiers.

"So, young sergeant, what is your name then?" the Sheriff queried nonchalantly, sitting in his ornate chair whilst Guy stood before him quoting taxes that he wasn't even listening to.

"Eli, sir," Eli replied.

"And Eli…how come you have risen so fast in the ranks? Hmm?"

"I guess I'm good, sir," Eli replied, unfazed.

"Ha, an honest man. I like you," the Sheriff's lip curled, "No wonder your Gisborne's sergeant. I wouldn't mind having you in his place. Eh, Gisborne?"

"Sir, I would appreciate it if you stopped harassing my sergeant," Gisborne sighed, realising the Sheriff wasn't listening.

"Stop whining, he can take it, can't you boy? He's no wimp," Vaisey waved his Man at Arms off.

"Yes, sir," Eli grinned slightly beneath his helmet, glad the Sheriff thought he was strong.

"Well, you can go now Guy…Eli. Hm, that rhymes," Vaisey mused for a moment, "Bye, bye now!"

* * *

Robin looked at his sleeping camp and smiled. He was on watch shift and had the duty of protecting his friends whilst they were at their most vulnerable, asleep. 

Allan was lying with his head on a bag, his cloak drawn around his body to keep out the cold of the winter months. Will lay nearby, leaning against a tree, his head on his shoulder and his knees pulled up to his chest. His dark hair was ruffled by the bark of the tree and his nose twitched every so often giving him the look of a young child. Robin suppressed a chuckle. Djaq was right beside the youngest outlaw, her head leaning on his arm, her face completely at peace. The leader of the group grinned; he knew that those two were meant to be together even if they didn't yet. John was sprawled out by the figure, his chest rising and falling, volcanic snores issuing from his gaping mouth. Finally there was Much, Robin's faithful ex servant, sleeping near Robin's side. He was always by him, keeping watch over his old master. Defending him. They were best friends and nothing could come between them ever since Robin had been eight years old.

Robin wished there was one more member of the group, Marian. But she continued to refuse Robin's offer for her to join him and his men in the forest. He wasn't exactly surprised considering it wasn't that great a conditions for a lady but he thought she might have opted for it rather than face Gisborne's wrath after jilting him at the altar. Instead she chose to stay, claiming that she must care for her father as she always did and also that she would be more use inside the castle walls spying.

He constantly worried for her safety and knew that one day she would be uncovered and then she would be in trouble. On that day though, when it came, he would do anything to save her, he knew that. Because he loved her, more than the world.

"What are you thinking about?" a voice suddenly grunted and Robin was brought out of his thoughts to be faced with Much.

"Things," Robin replied vaguely.

"What kind of things?" Much sat up, his longish blonde-brown locks all over the place and his blue eyes tinted with sleep.

"The gang…Marian…"

"I should've guessed," Much smiled slightly at his master, "It always comes down to Marian when you're that deep in thought."

"It's just…I don't understand her."

"I don't understand any women," Much retorted, "And Marian is a very complicated woman."

"You can say that again," Robin chuckled.

"So…why exactly is Marian confusing you so much?"

"Well, Much, why won't she come to safety? They'll discover her eventually and when they do they won't be lenient because she's a woman. She's got too much background."

"She thinks what she is doing is right," Much shrugged.

"Yes, but why won't she realise that _I'm _right for once?" Robin cried, exasperated.

"Because she's stubborn and proud."

"I guess you're right."

"It's my turn on watch duty. You get some sleep," Much declared and pushed Robin off his perch and onto his bed of clothes.

"Fine," the outlaw nodded but knew he would hardly get any sleep tonight; he never did as he always had too much on his mind, "Night."

"G'night," Much answered.

* * *

Eli pulled off his chain mail and collapsed onto his bed in the soldiers' quarters of Nottingham castle. He was exhausted. The day had been very active, patrolling the streets of the town and fighting with some outlaws in the forest when they stole some horses of Gisborne. Not Robin Hood's men though, sadly. That was another of Eli's goals that he wanted to achieve. Meet Robin Hood and his men and be the one to capture at least one of them. Something that no one seemed to have succeeded at very well so far. And when Eli made himself a target he always completed it, like becoming Gisborne's most valued man and to be noticed by the Sheriff of Nottingham. 

He reached beneath the covers on his hard, wooden bed and pulled out a small bread roll and an apple he'd got from the market yesterday with what little pay he had. He may be Gisborne's right hand man but that didn't mean he got treated any better than the others in the way of accommodation or pay meaning he only had enough money for a meal a day, two if he was lucky.

Eli began biting into the roll just as a dark shadow fell across him and he looked up expectantly. A huge man stood above him, his face set in a grim line. His name was Harold Butcher.

"I don't like you," he growled, "None of us do."

"Er…and? I don't like you much either. You smell bad and you're not that nice to look at. Ever heard of a bath?" Eli replied, going back to his bread.

"How dare you?!" Harold thundered, making a move forward, but he was fortunately stopped by one of his fellow guards that were much lower down in the ranks than Eli.

"How dare I what?" Eli sighed, doing a very good impression of the Sheriff in looking bored with the whole conversation.

"How dare you come here and be so high and mighty. We've been here for years yet none of us have been promoted so quickly!"

"Maybe that's because you're stupid," Eli shrugged, hardly listening, more intent on his apple.

"Or that you're Gisborne's pet," Harold spat. Quick as a flash, Eli was off the bed and had a sharp dagger that had slipped from up his sleeve at Harold's throat.

"Listen here you giant, lazy buffoon. I am _no ones _I repeat _no ones _pet! Got that?" Eli hissed between gritted teeth.

"Yu-huh," the man gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing perilously close to the edge of the dagger.

"Good, I'm glad we understand each other…Harold," Eli spat the last word, "Now, leave me alone or my dagger may just slip in the night." The giant nodded, reduced to a trembling wreck at the hands of this man that was no more than a boy, and was relieved to be released.

Eli finished the juicy fruit in his grip as if nothing had happened between starting and finishing his poxy meal. He knew he would get no more bother from any of his fellow guards after that. He'd taken on the strongest- in their eyes anyway- guard and defeated him. Eli was now untouchable.

Leaning back on his bed, he threw the apple core out of the window and kicked his boots off before drawing the threadbare blankets over himself and closing his eyes.

**I kinda like writing Eli, he's so evil! Kinda like a mini Sheriff whoop! Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey! Thanks for the reviews guys! I hope you like this next chapter! Next episode of Robin Hood looks cool! Spooks is on in 2 hours and 15 minutes!! Yay!**

Will scrambled up the hill and scrabbled through the leaves on the ground and found the release switch. Suddenly the floor seemed to rise up to reveal an entrance. Will darted towards it and went in. It was their new camp that he'd invented. It was ingenious. Extremely well camouflaged and insulated at the freezing nights in the forest.

He'd only finished it a couple of days ago but already they'd settled in perfectly and all had their own areas: Much's kitchen, Will's cutting area, Djaq's medical bay…

"Will, close the door! It's bloody freezing!" Allan yelped, retreating into the depths of the camp.

"Sorry," Will apologised and let the door fall down again, "Robin, I've got some news."

"First, where's the food?" Much asked, searching the young outlaw's person for the package.

"Here," Will passed him the bag of bread and cheese.

"Yes, Will?" Robin nodded, urging him to speak.

"Um…I heard from Marian that there was going to be a cart of 'something very important to the Sheriff' coming through the forest. Its going to be very heavily guarded by one of Gisborne's top men."

"So not Gisborne then?" Robin frowned, "Can't be that important if he can't be bothered to watch over it."

"Ah, you have Marian to thank for that. She tempted him away to make it slightly easier."

"Tempted him with what?"

"I'm not sure, Robin. But you know she wouldn't cheat on you especially with a slime ball like Gisborne," Will replied vehemently.

"Ok, so we should set up watches around the forest. Do you know what time, roughly?"

"Er…midday I think," the young man said.

"Right, let's move guys. Will and Allan you take the west. Djaq and John the east. Me and Much will take the north," Robin declared.

* * *

Gisborne placed a hand on Eli's shoulder. He felt sort of strange. This boy had been more of a family to him than anyone ever had and he was a merciless killer. It just showed what an awful life Gisborne had had. He guessed this youth hadn't had it easy either but he never pried in his past. Why should he? It was none of his business. 

"I'm trusting you with this, boy, and if you fail…well, let's just say neither I nor the Sheriff will take it too well,"

"It'll be fine, Sir Guy," Eli stated.

"It better be. Now, I'm giving you fifteen guards so make sure you place them well and leave no gaps. If anyone appears on the track, ignore them. If Robin Hood turns up, fight him off but don't do anything more. All the Sheriff wants is the cart, ok?"

"Yes, sir. But where will you be?"

"You do not need to know that," Gisborne replied looking rather smug, "Now, go. You must be at Stalybridge on time to pick up the cart so you can bring it back here by dusk. And remember. The code word is Heron."

"Yes, I best be going now, sir."

* * *

Allan spotted the cart as it rattled along the west path in the forest, the spindly wheels bumping and thumping over all the potholes and ruts. He turned round and whistled quietly for his friend who appeared a few seconds later. Both men stared at the cart. It was pretty heavily guarded, fifteen guards altogether and then one who seemed to be the leader. You could tell by the way he held himself that he was confident of no interference. _I'd like to see his face when we're through with him._ Allan smiled to himself. 

"What d'you think is in the cart?" Will queried curiously.

"How should I know? But we'll soon find out. I'll go fetch the others," Allan jumped up and disappeared into the undergrowth. Will was left following the slowly progressing cart.

* * *

"So, how are we gonna do this?" Robin asked, looking at the guards and sizing them up. 

"Well, we could just use the element of surprise," Much suggested.

"Maybe, but that's a bit reckless considering there are way more of them than there are of us," the leader replied.

"How about…no, I don't know…"

"We could…no…"

"Perhaps….no, that's not a good idea…."

"Ok, guys, whilst you are all pondering here the cart is getting closer and closer to leaving the forest and then we won't have a chance to get near it," Allan butted in.

"Good point. Wait, I have it! We will do this…" Robin declared and then elaborated on the plan.

* * *

Eli could tell someone was watching them. The hairs on the back of his neck were prickling and his skin was tingling. His grey eyes moved swiftly around the surrounding landscape and he was sure he caught a flash of movement between the trees but he could just be being paranoid. 

Suddenly an arrow shot just passed his ear and slammed into the side of the cart. One of the guards let out a strangled yell. Eli spun round on the spot, looking for the source of the arrow. It was then that a shower of deadly arrows followed the first, appearing from between the tree trunks and raining down on the soldiers and the cart.

Several guards screamed in terror and made a break for it, leaving the cart less well guarded.

"Well, hello there," a voice shouted from the depths of the foliage, "You seem to have something there that we want to look at. Give it to use and we will cause you no harm."

"What are you going to do? There are many of us," Eli replied, loudly and calmly, for he wasn't scared at all.

"Ah, but there are many more of us. In fact we have you surrounded and considering a large amount your men have already made a run for it then it may be in your best interests not to fight the inevitable."

Eli wasn't buying it. There could be two of them for all they knew and even if there was quite a few there was no way he would give up the cart, he would never live it down. But it seemed his men were and more of them sprinted away, their armour clanging noisily.

"Come back you cowardly wretches!" Eli roared after them but was paid no heed and soon he was left alone. Well, that was just great but he still wasn't giving up. He'd fight on his own if that's what came down to it.

"You seem to be on your own," the voice laughed mockingly.

"I will fight you to the death," the brave young man answered, fiercely.

"It seems you will but I do not believe in killing for no reason so…" a dark figure stepped out of the shadows followed by about five more coming from different directions.

As they drew closer Eli was able to see the obvious leader of the group in full. He was young and boyish with a stubbly beard and messy brown hair.

"Who are you?" Eli hissed though he already had an inkling.

"Robin Hood, who else would have the balls to pull this off," the man grinned.

"I guess you're right but that doesn't matter. You are not taking anything from this cart!"

"Oh really, you are heavily outnumbered and we can take you out easily," Robin replied, raising an eyebrow. Eli drew his sword and held it out in front of him, on guard. "Whoa…mate….just let us take whatever's in there and we won't hurt you."

"Robin Hood doesn't harm people. You won't do anything to me," whilst Eli had been speaking and distracting the outlaws he moved closer and closer to Djaq who was just a couple of metres away. He drew a dagger from his sleeve and held it hidden in his clenched hand, the tip just protruding slightly through his fingers.

"Yes, well, we may make an exception if you won't cooperate," Allan butted in.

"Shut up, Allan," Much sighed.

"Djaq, watch out!" Will suddenly yelled as Eli surged side wards and grabbed the woman roughly round the neck, a dagger at her throat.

"Now, let me and the cart go and I won't hurt your friend," Eli spoke calmly.

"Leave her alone," Will shouted and before anyone could register it the young outlaw's small axe had spun through the air and embedded itself in Eli's shoulder. It had gone straight through a crack in the armour. He immediately dropped the dagger and his hand holding Djaq drooped enough so she could slip out and dart away. Djaq hurried straight for Will who put a protective arm around her.

Eli reached for the axe handle that was protruding from his shoulder and, gritting his teeth, yanked it out. He only let out a grunt to show how much it hurt him and most of the men were impressed by his bravery. A spurt of blood splashed out of the wound and down the shiny metal of the armour.

"You shouldn't do that, you know? You could've torn something," Djaq said, stepping forward.

"And why would I want the opinion of Saracen slime?" the man spat through the pain.

"Fine, I was just trying to help," Djaq held up her hands as if in surrender.

They could all tell the man was in immense pain though. The eyes through the slits in his helmet were narrowed and small crease marks formed at the edges. He was also struggling to stand up right as if fighting for consciousness against an unyielding invisible enemy. He staggered for a moment and then fell, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

"Ok, that didn't go quick as planned," Robin commented dryly, "Djaq?" He turned the woman but she'd already rushed over to the unconscious man despite being threatened by him just moments before.

"What? You're gonna help that nutjob?" Allan laughed, eyebrow raised.

"Yes, now, give me a hand will you."

**Haha, family reunion on the way but how happy will it actually be? Review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Whoop. Next chapter. Thanks for all the reviews! Dont you think it was so mean in this weeks episode where Daniel forgot Much and was like 'You're the servant, right?" That was so harsh! Anyone else think Mark was absolutely adorable? I wanna put him in my pocket and take him home.**

Once the outlaws arrived back at their camp with the injured man, Djaq took him straight to her medical bay.

"I'll make the dinner shall I?" Much sighed and went to his cooking area.

"Thanks Much," Robin grinned and slapped his friend on the back.

"I'm not being funny but is this really such a great idea bringing him back to camp? I mean he's one of Gisborne's men and we only just designed this thing. Won't he just go right back to his masters and tell them where it is? And how it works? All Will's work down the drain and we'll have to move again," Allan pointed out.

"Not if he dies. He won't be going anywhere soon," Djaq spoke up from her lair, "Wow."

"What?" All the outlaws asked in unison, immediately looking over to the woman.

"He's young. Very young. For a soldier I mean and one of such high rank and bravery."

"How old?" Robin frowned coming over to their wounded guest's bedside. His helmet had been removed to reveal a youthful face, slightly scarred but quite handsome. Robin gaped in shock, "He looks about seventeen, eighteen at the oldest."

"And battle weary it seems," Djaq ran a long finger down the pink scar on her patients cheek.

"Do you think we should tie him down, you know if he wakes up?" Allan suggested as he joined the gathering followed by Will and John who were also curious as to their captive's age.

"He's not going to move, now, will you give me some space!" Djaq shooed the men away.

"Who wants chicken and who wants venison? I can't cook both so you have to come to a group decision," Much yelled from the other end of the camp.

"Venison!"

"Chicken!"

"Venison!"

"Venison!"

"Pork!"

"Allan, I didn't even give you the choice of pork!" Much cried exasperated.

"Fine, venison."

"Venison it is."

* * *

Much whistled as he cooked, adding bits of this and bits of that to the meaty stew he was preparing. He then shoved in some sliced carrots and declared the meal ready. Everyone hurried over, hungry after the long day, but Allan managed to make it to the front of the queue as usual.

"Oh come on, a bit more than that," he said incredulously looking at his measly portion, "I'm skin and bones here."

"Ha, you are not. Will and Robin are much thinner than you," Much laughed and ladled some of the stew in Will's bowl.

"Hey, he has more than me!"

"Have mine then if you want, Allan," Will offered him the bowl.

"Thanks mate," Allan took the proffered dish and took it along with his own before sitting down on a log.

"Allan! You can't eat Will's food!"

"He gave it to me, Much, so there," Allan stuck his tongue out at the cook.

"Will, you should eat," Robin walked passed with his bowl and put a hand on the younger man's shoulder. It was rather bony.

"Its ok, I'm not hungry."

"Well I am. Give me the food," Djaq grinned and thrust her plate at Much.

"So, how is the patient?" the former manservant queried as he helped himself to a considerable amount of stew.

"Look for yourself," Djaq replied, slurping her food.

"Elegant," Allan commented.

"I'm hungry," the woman shrugged.

* * *

Much stood up and wandered over to the medical bay. As he drew closer he caught sight of some messy dark hair and then the man's face. He stopped dead and dropped his bowl. It clattered noisily on the ground. The rest of the outlaws turned to look at him, confused at his gob smacked reaction.

"What's wrong, Much?" Robin asked, concerned, clambering to his feet from his log.

"I…he…Jesus…" Much murmured, his blue eyes wide as he stared at the boy on the bed.

"What?" He now had the attention of all the outlaws; it was not very often that Much was rendered speechless after all.

"Spit it out, Much!" Allan ordered.

"That…at least I think….yes….no one else had a scar like that…."

"Much?!"

"I think….he's named Eli Ashdown," the manservant spoke in barely a whisper.

"Yeah, and the significance of that is?" Allan was getting impatient.

"He's my brother ok, Allan, my little brother! Happy?!" Much finally burst out and sprinted out of the camp back door.

"Huh?"

"Well done, Allan, really smooth," Djaq sighed exasperated.

"Sorry," the man shrugged, "How come you never told us he had a brother?" He directed this question at Robin.

"I-I didn't know," Robin stammered, looking in the direction his best friend had gone.

"You didn't know? Whoa, well that's gotta be a shock," Allan whistled, "I thought you two told each other everything."

"So did I. I'll be back soon," with that Robin left the outlaw's dwelling.

* * *

Much had not strayed far. He was sitting in the bough of a low tree, his head resting in his hands and his whole form was quivering. Robin spotted him immediately and walked slowly over to the foot of the tree.

"Much?" He got no reply, "Much, please, you have to talk to me. I don't understand. I didn't know you had any family."

"That's because you didn't ask. You just assumed I was your servant from the day I met you," Much replied bitterly.

"Well," Robin felt guilty but he needed to know what was going on, "tell me now. I'm listening, like you've listened to me all these years." The outlaw leader gripped a tree branch and swung up beside his friend just a little way off, to give him space.

"What? Tell you about my past? My childhood before I became your servant?"

"Yes."

"You really want to know?"

"Yes."

"Ok, I ran away from home when I was ten and ended up on the Great North Road where I was picked up by your father and brought here," Much replied, stating the obvious.

"But before that Much, why did you run away?"

"My father beat me," Much answered bluntly causing Robin to do a double take.

"Your father beat you?"

"Yes, that's what I said wasn't it? That's why I have all those scars and bruises. He thumped me for the littlest thing. One time he battered me so bad I nearly died just for dropping a piece of meat on the floor. I was in bed for over a month. The doctor didn't think I would survive."

"But what of your mother?" Robin frowned, unable to believe a mother would allow her child to be hurt by this.

"She did nothing. She didn't even try and help. She stood and watched or just ignored it even when I was screaming at her for help," Much said resentfully, "At first the neighbours tried to help, they talked to my father but he scared them off almost immediately. My father was a big man - fierce and angry."

"Much, why didn't you ever tell me?" Robin asked sadly, wondering how his friend could've holed this up inside him for so long.

"I don't know," Much shrugged, "I guess I wanted to forget. But now Eli is back and it seems he suffered the same childhood as me. I knew Father would probably start on him after I left but I had to escape. That scar, on his face, that was the first time Father seriously hurt him. I was out, fetching bread, but when I came back Eli was rolling around on the floor, screaming and crying, his face covered in blood. Father had gone at him with the carving knife. He was five, Robin! A little kid."

Robin was seriously struggling to get his head round his friend's awful past. The details so terrifying and cruel. How could anyone do that to a ten year old let alone a five year old child who couldn't defend himself? Robin hated Much's father with a burning passion, much like the one he nursed for Gisborne, he wanted to seek revenge for Much. But, he reminded himself, Much had never gone back for revenge even when he was big enough and strong enough to fight his father, so why should he? Much had moved on, found a new life.

The leader of the outlaws suddenly cringed, realising how he'd always taken Much for granted, his happy go lucky, optimistic friend. He'd been just as cruel to Much as his father if not physically but mentally, with malicious and spiteful words. Yet Much stuck by his side.

It was then Robin realised Much's body was shuddering. He was crying. Well, he may not have been there for his friend all the time but he could be there for him now. Shuffling closer he put an arm round his faithful friend, offering comfort.

**Some Robin and Much bonding there. I think they should have more of it in the show. They are best friends after all. Next chapter Eli wakes up. Oooh...REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, next chapter. Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying the story! Please bear with me as I try and update more often.**

The man moaned in his sleep, his brow creasing from the burning pain concentrated in his shoulder and his hands clenched into tight balled fists. Djaq dabbed tenderly at the wound, careful not to cause her injured patient anymore pain. It was quite deep but the cut was clean and she was pretty certain it would not get infected as she bandaged it up.

Much was hovering anxiously by her, staring worriedly at the face of his younger brother and then letting his gaze flit to Djaq's hand every so often to see what she was doing.

"Will he be alright?"

"He'll be absolutely fine much but he will hurt for awhile and must be careful to avoid infection and a fever," the Saracen replied comfortingly.

"Thank you, Djaq, I appreciate it and I'm sure he does too," Much nodded.

"But…I was wondering whether you could explain these marks, they are very strange," Djaq pulled down Eli's tunic slightly to reveal his bare chest that was littered with old scars and bruises. But what Djaq was talking about were the unusual criss cross patterns across his torso that looked like badly healed burns maybe recovering from infection.

The manservant recognised the lines and sighed, closing his eyes for a second, remembering when he received similar burns from his father. How could he have left his brother to this? Then he explained to the puzzled Djaq.

"They are from the grill, my father used for his cooking," Much answered grimly, "Eli must have done something wrong and then my father bent the boy over it and held him down until those marks burnt onto his skin for life. He did the same to me. Look." Much lifted the hem of his shirt and gestured to similar scars.

"Ouch!" Djaq visibly winced.

"Hey, guys, shouldn't we actually think about opening this chest. I'm kinda curious," Allan shouted from across the camp in the seating area where he was holding up the box they taken from the cart.

"Ok then. Will d'you think you can open it without the key?" Robin nodded and turned to the carpenter.

"Easy," the young outlaw took the box confidently and set to work. After a minute the chest was unlocked and Will flung the lid back. Glinting back at him were hundreds of diamonds.

"Oh my god! This must be worth a fortune!" Allan whooped and dove in, grabbing a huge handful of the jewels and inspected them in awe, "They're soo shiny!"

"That's nice Allan, but we are selling them and buying stuff for the poor," Robin tipped the diamonds from his friends hand and back into the chest before slamming it shut.

"Ah! Watch it! You nearly had me fingers there!" Allan yelped jumping back and glaring at Robin.

"Serves you right for putting your thieving mitts back in the box," Will grinned and slapped his best friend on the back teasingly.

"I do not steal!"

"And I am a woman," Will replied, sarcastically.

"Really? You should have told me Will! I'll have to call you Wilhelmina I'm not sure Djaq will be too pleased though," Allan retorted just as sarcastically.

* * *

Much watched his brother protectively, hoping that he would wake up so they could talk and he could find out what had happened to him the years he'd been absent. 

"Hey, Much, you gonna eat. I actually cooked tonight," Robin stated proudly, holding up the broth he concocted.

"That makes a change but I'm not hungry, Robin, thank you."

"Not hungry? Who are you and what have you done to the real Much?" Allan laughed.

"Is it because I cooked? I'm not that bad you know," Robin looked offended, like a wounded puppy.

"No, I'm just _not _hungry."

"Are you ill?" Djaq asked concerned.

"No! Ok! I'm fine!" Much shouted.

"Madoc?" a voice suddenly whispered at his elbow.

* * *

Eli had woken but kept his eyes closed, trying to figure out his surroundings and who was in his vicinity. There was a dull ache in his shoulder which intensified if he moved slightly but he ignored that, blocking it completely from his mind and focusing on where he was. 

He then heard voices. Loud, happy voices and he immediately felt cold inside. Where was he? He realised he could feel the presence of someone beside him, sitting very close. Eli wondered who it was.

It was then he heard the word Robin and he remembered what had caused him to get wounded and the outlaws stealing the cart. Damn, he'd failed Gisborne. That could not happen! The Sheriff would never forgive him. He must get back to Nottingham with the chest. But how? He was heavily outnumbered and he knew these outlaws were very skilled compared to other ruffians and rebels. He could not fight himself out. Then he must trick and lie he decided.

Opening his eyes a crack he caught sight of the person sitting beside him. He recognised him. The mousey hair and the cloudy blue eyes and the voice, it may have deepened a considerable amount but he still knew it from his terrified nights spent cowering in the corner when his father went at his brother.

It was Madoc, his older brother who had left him in the hands of his father to be beaten, alone and scared. But Eli didn't want revenge, he may be angry with his brother but he had other priorities and at this point in time it was better to play the long lost brother making it easier for them to trust him. Now was the time to wake.

"Madoc?" was his first, fake-confused word as his eyes fluttered open causing the man beside him to jump and turn to stare.

"Eli?" Much grinned, "You feeling ok?"

"Been better," Eli smiled weakly, something he hadn't done in years. It felt strange even if it was false.

"I'm….I'm sorry you know. For leaving you to Father. So sorry," Much spoke quietly, his eyes swirling with emotion.

"Its ok, Madoc, I'm fine."

"Obviously not," Much replied eyeing his very battered body.

"Where am I?"

"Our camp."

"And where's that?"

"Sorry, I can't tell you yet."

"Um…sorry about attacking your friend," the injured man looked guilty.

"You'll have to apologise to Djaq," Much shrugged.

"Its just that I needed to look after the chest otherwise Gisborne would have my neck," Eli played off his knowledge that the outlaws loathed Guy of Gisborne to get sympathy.

"But what I don't get is why you were working for a bastard like Gisborne anyway?" Allan asked. The outlaws, having let Much have some time with his brother, wanted to join the conversation.

"The money," Eli shrugged, "After I left home I needed to earn money and I was pretty decent at fighting so I joined the guards. It's ok pay." He lied.

"And why did you call Much Madoc?" Djaq added, frowning.

"Because that is his name, isn't it Madoc? Your birth name," Eli looked at Much who shrugged.

"Here, Eli, I stuck with Much. I got so used to it," the man replied.

"Oh, but how did you end up here? I mean, what happened after you ran away?" Eli was feigning interest in his brother's plight but still boiling with fury deep down.

"Um...well, you see, Master Robin's father found me and brought me home to be a servant. Me and Robin became friends. Went to the Holy Land but he got injured so we returned and were then outlawed for helping the peasants. That's the whole story in short. What about you?"

"I don't wish to talk about it," Eli turned his head away for a moment, lost in thought.

* * *

As the outlaws conversed with the injured man, Will sat far back in his chopping area whittling a piece of wood down. He did not like stranger, even if he was Much's blood, there was something sinister and treacherous about him. The cold, calculating look in his grey eyes he got every time he spoke or did something. It was like he was analysing every move he made for a bigger purpose. And Will didn't like that because he could tell that bigger purpose did not bode well for him and the others, especially Djaq. He did not know how she could accept the man who threatened to kill her so easily. Shouldn't she be wary? He would be had he been in her position. Will just felt Eli was not to be trusted for a second. The carpenter had no idea how right he would prove to be. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, new chapter! I hope you like it! Its getting a bit more dramatic. I'm not sure if my Sheriff is OOC. If you like this then check out my other stories Unexpected Package or For a Girl Grace and for a Boy Tristan! Review! Robin Hood tonight whoop!**

"Where are my diamonds, Gisborne?!" the Sheriff screamed at his Man at Arms.

"They seem to have been intercepted by Hood and his band of men," Guy replied, sighing, knowing he was in for a rollicking.

"And how come the cart managed to be captured so easily considering we had fifteen guards on it and your top man was in charge. A clue? That's the answer. How come you were not in charge of the diamonds?"

"I was looking after other matters."

"Marian shaped matters no doubt?! I thought you were over her Gisborne." The Sheriff climbed out of his chair and began pacing circles around Guy, "Wasn't she the one that dumped you on your wedding day? Hmm? Wasn't she the one that punched you with your own wedding ring?"

"Yes, my Lord," Gisborne nodded.

"Well then, why on earth are you still smitten with that with that whore? When it is so obvious she only uses you for her own means?"

"I don't know, my Lord," the Man at Arms replied, hoping the Sheriff would move off the subject of Marian.

"Anyway. I don't care much about your awful taste in women but what I do care about, very much, is that you lost my diamonds! I want them back now, Gisborne!" the Sheriff stamped his foot.

"I will send men into the forest to find them," the younger man suggested.

"Yes, you do that. Maybe have a chance to redeem yourself."

* * *

Gisborne's search in the forest did not uncover the outlaws' hideout and they remained hidden along with the precious diamonds and his second in command. That was actually what Gisborne was more concerned about. Although Eli had let him down slightly he still missed the boy and wanted him back preferably unharmed. He was a great asset to the guards of Nottingham and as close as a son or a brother that Gisborne had.

* * *

Eli gradually recovered enough to move around the camp. He was trying desperately to work out where he was, any clue to what this weird hideout was and how he could escape. He had decided to act more sick than he actually was so the outlaws wouldn't know he'd almost gained full mobility of his arm.

None of them seemed suspicious of him at all considering he'd nearly killed that Saracen. That was Robin Hood's downfall from what Eli could work out, he trusted too easily. Much was very easy to win over considering they were related and the man still felt very guilty for leaving Eli to their father. Eli played on this, occasionally mentioning beatings and things.

The other outlaws, the huge mountain of a man, the Saracen and the one that had got his fingers almost snapped in the diamond chest all welcomed him and talked to him. They accepted him as Much's brother and did not think there was any danger in him.

The only one that seemed at all apprehensive about Eli's presence was the carpenter who he sometimes caught staring at him warily. He was very guarded about what he said to the stranger and always jumped in to stop one of the other's blabbing the whereabouts of the camp which Eli found very frustrating and irritating.

* * *

"Eli, we're going out for a few hours to do some money giving in the villages but you'll have to stay here as you're not really well enough," Robin informed the recovering man.

"Oh," Eli pretended to be disappointed, "I really need to get some fresh air."

"Well, maybe we can let you out when we get out," the leader of the outlaws suggested.

"What am I? A dog?" Eli grinned, teasingly.

"No, I promise you'll be allowed out when we get back. Someone will have to stay with you though, to look after you." Robin looked around the outlaws looking for a volunteer.

"I'll stay," Will spoke up firmly.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'll be fine."

Eli sighed, he'd been hoping for Djaq or someone other than the solemn and distrustful Will. This was going to be harder than he'd thought.

Once the outlaws had left, Will returned to his chopping area and Eli went and sat in the medical bay where he'd taken up residence for the time being.

"I…er…am a bit tired. I think I'll go to sleep."

"Ok," Will shrugged and went back to axing the wood for a new bench.

* * *

It was about two hours later when Will began to feel slightly uneasy as he put the final touches to his bench. He could no longer hear the gentle breathing of Eli in the corner or see the lump that was the injured man.

Straightening up, Will strode over to the medical bay and realised that Eli definitely not there. Where was he? Suddenly, the carpenter heard a footfall behind him and whirled around to be met with a sword slashing down his arm. Eli was standing there, a mad, hungry look in his eye and a weapon that seemed to have appeared from nowhere in his hand.

Will grunted in pain, grabbing his wounded arm and looking desperately for his axe. It wasn't on his belt. He'd left it in the chopping area. Suddenly the situation was seeming very bleak.

"Eli, why are you doing this?" Will tried to reason, holding out his hands as a sign he had no weapon and would not attack.

"Because I cannot fail. I will not fail." With that Eli brought his blade down on Will's outstretched hand. Will cried out in agony just as the younger man brought the sword hilt into contact with his skull – hard. Everything dissolved into blackness.

* * *

Yes. He'd done it. Eli smiled grimly to himself and looked at the fallen man. He could've killed him but that would not be useful to the Sheriff. No. This simple outlaw could be used as very effective bait. But how was he to get the man with him to Nottingham? And where were the diamonds?

He answered the second question pretty easily as he spotted the box nestled beside Robin's sleeping spot. Hurrying over he plucked the chest up. It was quite bulky and there was no way he could carry both the outlaw and it. As if on cue to provide a solution for his dilemma came a muffled neigh from somewhere at the back of the camp.

Frowning, Eli walked tentatively to the depths of the camp and spotted something he hadn't seen before. A door. It wasn't the one the outlaws usually went out of. The man tugged at the handle and pulled the wood open. It opened onto a veranda like thing and just by this wooden platform was a lone horse tied to a tree no doubt left for Will in an emergency. Perfect.

Eli ran back inside and grabbed the dark haired rebel off the floor half carrying half dragging him through the back door and to the horse. Using all his strength, Eli heaved Will onto the horses back before untying the animal and picking up the box and climbing up himself.

Time to make himself scarce before the others came back. Kicking the horse, they sped away into the trees.

**Duh, duh, duuuh! Yeh...um...review!**


	7. Chapter 7

**I loved the episode last night! It was awesome! When Matilda went what is this to Robin's beard 'Its neither grown nor shaven, make up your mind.' Lol! Review!**

Djaq laughed hysterically at Much. She could not believe what he had just done. All the other outlaws were staring at her in astonishment; none of them had ever heard her laugh so freely. Tears were actually streaming down her face.

"You….you…why…I can't believe it…" she could not even get the words out to describe her feelings.

The outlaws had delivered food to all the peasants in the village of Clun and were heading home when a group of small girls had appeared out of nowhere and began clamouring at Much. They were tugging at his trousers and holding onto his leg every time he tried to walk. He could not get rid of them. Eventually he let out a terrified cry and managed to break free running backwards quickly away from the attacking children. The fact he was moving so swiftly and not looking where he was going meant he had not seen the log behind him and had tripped over it, sprawling backwards and ending up in the lake.

When he had emerged, coughing and spluttered he had reeds all in his hair and some silty mud covering his face. The girls took one look at him, thought he was a devil monster and pelted away screaming about demons and hell.

Much was still sopping wet and muddy and not in a good mood considering Djaq had not stopped laughing at him for a solid twenty minutes.

"Djaq, will you just drop it?!" Much gave an uncharacteristic growl mimicking one of Gisborne's and shot her an annoyed look.

"Sorry, it's just….I'll shut up," she halted, seeing his face.

"Thank you."

"Oh, Much, you have to admit it was funny. If it had been me you would've laughed," Allan pointed out.

"But it wasn't. It never is. It's always me!" Much moaned, "And none of you tell Eli, I'm warning you. He doesn't know what a clumsy oaf I am and he never will, got it?"

"Yes, Much," the outlaws chorused, grinning.

"You know, Will's gonna be disappointed he missed this," Allan stated.

"Allan!" Much snarled warningly.

"Ok, ok. Hey, I'm not being funny but where's Will's horse?"

The group had arrived at the back entrance of the hidden camp and immediately noticed that something was wrong.

"D'you think something happened and he came looking for us?" Much asked.

"Maybe something was wrong with Eli," Djaq suggested.

"Well, maybe instead of just standing here speculating what happened we should look inside?" Allan said, "Hey, where's Robin?"

It was then they realised the man had already disappeared into the hideout. The rest of them followed quickly.

* * *

The hideout was empty, neither Will nor Eli could be seen anywhere. Where on earth could they have gone? The outlaws scouted around the camp looking for clues to where Will may have gone. A note or something.

No one found anything certain but Djaq did see something. "Will's left his axes."

"And?" Allan frowned.

"_And _Will never goes anywhere without his axes," Robin joined the conversation looking concerned.

"But then why would he have vanished and not taken them? What would cause him to forget them?" Allan asked, puzzled.

"Guys! I think I've found something!" Much called over from where he was inspecting the ground.

"What?" Robin questioned, coming over and joining his manservant.

"This….blood,"

"Blood?" Djaq looked horror-struck, "Whose blood? Eli is healed."

"Well, there's quite a lot, maybe it was a fresh wound."

Robin was frantically trying to put two and two together but he kept getting three. Whose blood was this and how did they get the wound? Where was Will? Why would he leave his axes? He would only do that if he'd been forced.

"Eh, Robin!" Allan piped up, "My spare sword's gone."

"But why would someone….Eli," Robin answered his own question.

"Hey, don't accuse my brother of this he's injured."

"The wound was practically healed. He had good mobility," Djaq added.

"So is there a chance he could've overpowered Will?" Robin directed his query at Djaq.

"A possibility. If Will was not expecting it."

"Why are we accusing Eli all of a sudden?! He's not done anything. He's my brother," Much asked indignantly.

"A brother that was working for the Sheriff and Gisborne and did not hesitate in attacking Djaq. I knew there was something fishy about him," Allan declared, "Do you remember my brother? He betrayed us several times yet I still made the mistake of trusting him. Just because they're family doesn't mean they're all innocent."

"But…but…." Much protested, trying to think of ways to defend his brother.

"The diamonds are gone," John bellowed over the argument.

"That settles it. Eli has wounded and kidnapped Will and most likely taken him to Nottingham. We must rescue him."

* * *

Pain. Was the first thing on Will's mind when he came to. A burning sensation on his arm and hand. He could feel the dried blood cracking as he flexed his fingers experimentally and looked at the cut across his right hand. It travelled from the tip of his index finger diagonally to the bottom of his palm. This slash wasn't as deep as the wound on his forearm which was still bleeding freely.

Tearing a piece of material off his shirt he pressed it onto the injury to stem the bleeding. Then he looked around at his surroundings. He was in Nottingham Castle dungeons. He recognised it immediately as he'd been there often enough. Though never on his own. When he'd been here before he'd had his brother and other times he hadn't actually been in the cells but rescuing people. It was quite disturbing and lonely to be in the cold, dark, dank cells.

What had happened to make him get here though? Eli. That's what had happened, he remembered, that slime ball had knocked him out. He knew they shouldn't have trusted him but no one ever listened. Now he was trapped and he wasn't even sure when the rest of the gang would notice his absent. He could be here awhile.

Suddenly, the door to the dungeons swung open and in walked none other than Vaisey, the Sheriff of Nottingham.

"Ah, you are awake," he grinned evilly.

"Why have you brought me here, Sheriff?!" Will asked boldly, managing to rise to his feet albeit slightly shakily.

"Can you not guess? You are the perfect bait for Hood. He cares too much for all of you filthy thieves and when he comes to rescue like the gallant hero he is we will be ready and capture him. Then I will hang him and make an example of the arrogant fool to all his little peasant friends," the Sheriff announced.

"You won't capture him. You never do," Will spoke confidently.

"Ah, but I will. This time it will be different."

"Different how exactly?! Pah, you haven't got a chance. Robin will beat you no matter what you try," the carpenter defended his friend loyally.

"Shut up. You annoying pest."

"Why should I?" Will asked. He was aware that he was winding the Sheriff up a little too far considering what he was capable of but he didn't care. Maybe he was slightly delirious from loss of blood or maybe Allan was rubbing off on him.

"Because I am going to torture you to within an inch of your life until you tell me the whereabouts of the hidden camp my spy has spoken of is. You see, he was in such a haste to return to me that he forgot to remember the way back there and now I need you to tell me the directions."

"Never," Will hissed defiantly.

"Be that way. Guards, bring the prisoner to the torture chamber."

Torture chamber? Will gulped. He didn't like the sound of that.

**Review!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Wahey, next chappie. Its so annoying! My beloved laptop turned on me and went kaput! Then I lost my awesome chapter! With Will's torture. This version is sooo not as good. Next time back up my prized work!**

Will grunted, battling the agonised screams that were threatening to be ripped from his mouth every time the jailer, who seemed to have a perverse pleasure in harming his prisoner, burnt him, slashed him or hit him.

When Will had been dragged bodily into the dank, gloomy chamber he had been forced to strip down until he stood completely naked and then he was grabbed roughly and hung by his wrists from the stone ceiling.

There he hung, unprotected and vulnerable to whatever the Sheriff's cruel twisted mind could conjure up. Which was much worse than he anticipated. He didn't realise someone could own such an array of grotesque torture instruments that at this moment were laid out on a wooden table. Their sharp edges and monstrously jagged teeth glinting in the shimmering glow of the candle light.

"Well," the Sheriff stood in the corner of the chamber watching his captive, "If you tell me where the camp is I can make this all end. The pain will be gone."

"No," Will snarled through gritted teeth, writhing and desperately trying to swing away from the jailers relentless attention with his chosen weapon at the moment: a vicious looking vice.

"Alrighty then, I'll just leave for awhile, you see, I have better things to do than watch an outlaw die and when you finally feel like telling me the answer my jailer will get me," with that Vaisey spun on his heel and left the chamber.

Will glowered after him and then at the weasel like jailer who was inspecting his selection of weapons choosing which was the best one to torment his prisoner with next.

"Aha! I pick you my pretty," the man turned on the spot with a white hot brand in hand, the end glowing bright from hours spent in the depths of the fire. When he brought the metal towards Will he tried to move away but obviously he couldn't. When end of the poker came in contact with his chest the skin beneath puckered and shrivelled from the scorching heat and Will had to release a hiss of pain.

The jailer laughed and continued to trail the metal down his torso. Will was panting with exertion and pain, his whole body trembling and his chest heaving, beads of sweat were dribbling down his glistening forehead and mingling with the congealed blood already there from a deep gash. The mixture was plastering his dark hair to his head.

"Enjoying that? Ready to talk yet?" the jailer asked.

"No," Will growled, like an animal knowing he was slowly being cornered into submission.

He desperately wanted to give in, for this unimaginable, intolerable agony to be over, he wanted to die. But he couldn't give up the information; he wouldn't ever hurt his friends, not for anything. Nothing would ooze the whereabouts of the hidden camp from his lips. He had to protect the gang: Robin, brave and fearless, Much, faithful and honest, Allan, funny and resilient, John, strong and ferocious and Djaq, the beautiful, perfect Djaq who he loved so much it ached to think of her. He couldn't die before seeing her again. He had to stick this out, remain strong and then the others would rescue him, he was sure of it.

Sudden blinding agony gripped his body and to his disgust a scream escaped his lips. The jailer had taken a new weapon, a knife, so simple and obvious yet it was causing the outlaw so much distress. This was because the awful man had taken the sharp point of the weapon and penetrated the tender blisters that had formed on his chest from the earlier burns. The blade tore easily through the weak skin and allowed the healing watery pus beneath to be lost increasing the likelihood of infection.

"Argh!" Will howled, blinking back tears that were threatening to fall, "Please. Please stop."

"I'll stop if you tell the Sheriff where the camp is," the jailer retorted, a merciless smile playing across his lips.

Yes, was on the bloodied lips of the young man, anything to end the pain, but through his frenzied delirium some rational part of the carpenter fought through and overwhelmed the feeling to give up. He couldn't harm Djaq, never.

"No!" Will snapped, his voice lacking energy and conviction due to his weakened condition.

"Be that way, makes no difference to me," the jailer shrugged, happy for a chance to cause more pain, "I'll fetch the salt."

The man disappeared for a moment and Will relaxed, relief flooding through him that in that moment of craziness he had not betrayed his friends. This respite was short lived however as the spiteful jailer returned, an even more terrifying smirk on his face. In his hand he held a china bowl though Will could not see in it even from his high up position.

"What are you going to do?" he wheezed, his whole body shaking with the effort.

"I'm just going to rub a little salt on your wounds. Literally." The man grinned and then proceeded to grab a handful of salt and pour it onto Will's opened wounds. The young man cried out as excruciating pain gripped his body and he struggled uncontrollably, kicking and twisting as he hung like a piece of meat on a hook. The agony of the salt searing into his injuries was almost unbearable, almost like a knife slashing him over and over until he could take no more.

Neither Will nor the jailer knew that after the initial suffering how beneficial the salt minerals would be for Will's gaping cuts. It could prove to save his life.

"Had enough?" Will's captor smirked evilly.

"You'll pay for this you know," Will wasn't sure where this fury was coming from but it probably was feeding off the joy the jailer was getting off hurting him, "When I'm free, and be sure I will be, I'll come back here and kill you with my bare hands. You'll never feel safe again: when you eating, it may be poisoned, when you go out, an arrow may just find its way to your heart or when you take a bath, which by the smell of it you probably never do, I'll be there to drown you!" Will spat at the jailer even from his precarious position.

"Ooh, I'm scared." The jailer's piggy eyes widened in mock fear, "Wait, water, that's a great idea! I'll be right back. Hang in there and don't go anywhere! Ha, get it!"

* * *

Eli stood proudly in the Great Hall his face betraying none of his emotions but there was a smirk twitching at the edge of his lips. Gisborne stood a little way off, his arms folded and his face blank as usual whilst the Sheriff was at his table counting the stacks of gold Eli had just returned.

"Ah, good, it's all there. Those filthy outlaws haven't nicked any," Vaisey lifted his head and smiled a toothy grin at the man who had recovered his money, "Now, I don't say this very often but….well done, young man."

Eli was happy with the praise, it was another goal of his, to get acknowledged and respected by the Sheriff but now he needed to move onto his next aim.

"But do you still not remember the whereabouts of the camp? Because it seems our little outlaw friend in the dungeon is more on the path to destruction rather than cooperation."

"No, sorry, my Lord," that was one thing Eli regretted, forgetting the camp. He had been in such a rush that the thought to keep track of his direction had been completely forced from his mind. He would not make another mistake like that again.

"Ok, well, you can go now," the Sheriff announced, "Shoo."

Eli's next aim, to wipe the smug look off that man's face and see him in the gutter, preferably a dagger in his chest. He was under no one. He had no sides. He was his own man, his own leader and made his own decisions. He was unpredictable. Much like his late father had been before he killed him.

**Christ, I made Eli so messed up, he's like some kind of unemotional detatched assasin guy! Ooh, thought I'd just drop that last line in to let you know how deeply unfeeling and disturbed this guy is! Review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Ok, I have to admit, even for my standards this is pretty gruesome. I'm warning you now the second torture scene with Will is even more graphic so try to hold onto your stomach contents! I would just like to say I got all the methods of torture from a Medieval Torture sight and it is not just my sick, twisted, warped imagination coming up with them!**

**Now I've cleared that up. Allan is sooo annoying! How could he do that? He caught Robin unawares. He coulda killed him but then I did notice there was quite a lot of hesitation on Allan's part about finishing his ex leader off. Personally, I think the gang are being a bit harsh to Allan and that he'll come good in the end. Like in the last two episodes!**

Will sat on a chair, his hands tied behind his back which although uncomfortable, was a damn sight better than being strung from his wrists to the ceiling. This way he could rest his aching arms. But the torture hadn't stopped, far from it.

The jailer who Will had now discovered was named Vincent, seemed to be trying all the methods he had every read about in 'The Torturer's Handbook to Making Pesky Prisoners Talk'. It was a real book. Will had actually seen the repulsive volume being consulted by his captor several times.

The current method was the aptly named 'Force Drinking' in which Vincent seemed to have a never ending supply of water which he forced the outlaw to drink. It was relentless and Will had choked several times and been sick everywhere. His body could take no more water and it was like being drowned slowly and awfully.

Spluttering he tried to yank his head from the jailer's vice like grip but did not succeed, the long, bony, filthy fingers digging painfully into his flesh. Yet, even after all this; Will had still not given up the information. He had once heard Robin talking of a breaking point. That at some time in every man's torture they had to give in but Will was determined to be the only man not to do that or die trying.

"Come on, you worthless piece of dirt! Speak! Give up! You can never win," Vincent spat on Will's face, his beady eyes narrowed with obvious frustration at the man's resilience to everything thrown at him. He was growing impatient with this method of torment and soon gave up to go and seek advice from his precious book.

"Hmm," Vincent smirked, his face lighting up with pure evil glee, "How about…The Wheel of Torture? Or Flaying, now that's nasty but a bit messy, besides there is practically no skin left on you already. Ooh, what about the Brazen Bull or the Judas Cradle? No, the Sheriff wants you alive, sadly. Aha! Now I'm sure this will make you speak, the Knee Splitter…"

Will gulped, he was rather glad the jailer had passed over most of those tortures, they sounded terrifying and he was not sure he could stand them. But knee splitting? He did not like the sound of that either. How would he move around the forest if his knee was demobilised?

At this point Vincent had produced something with a flourish from behind his back, "Look see! The teeth! Aren't they sharp?" The man was holding a wooden structure with vicious looking spikes in it. It looked like a vice with tightening screws at either end. Will's eyes widened in absolute horror as the weapon was brought towards a exposed knee. "Now, I believe I place the device here and then begin twisting. You may feel a little twinge of pain." The jailer sniggered at his own joke and placed the vice over Will's knee joint. Then, slowly, he began turning the screws.

Immediately the spikes penetrated the outlaw's skin and he screamed in pain as they embedded themselves deeper, mutilating the skin awfully until it became a mangled mess of blood and muscle. He could see the white of his bone through the skin and he desperately wanted to be sick. Will knew that if those spikes went any further then he would lose mobility in his knee permanently rather than it just being an ugly disfigurement. It would be irreparable. He had to do something.

Kicking out with his other leg the outlaw managed to catch Vincent, so absorbed in his task, full in the stomach and wind him completely. The jailer dropped the vice and it was left dangling off Will's knee by a few threads of skin and tendons. This time the young man _had_ to empty the contents of his stomach, all over Vincent as it happened.

Then he realised the jailer may be wheezing on the stone floor but he had no way of escaping the chair and even if he did he wouldn't be going anywhere on that knee for awhile. Where were the gang when he needed them?

"Right, that's it, you asked for it," Vincent suddenly rasped from the floor, "I wasn't going to do it but you forced me to. I am going to use the Rat Torture!"

Will's mouth dropped open in dismay and his eyes grew big and panicky. He had heard of _that _method of torture before and he knew how it worked. The victim would be placed on a horizontal surface, restrained and then a rat would be placed in the centre of his stomach. Over that rodent would be put a metal container so it couldn't escape. Then, this was the bit that had Will's heart thumping and his whole body shaking, the pot would be heated. With no way out of the container the rat would seek escape some other way and that just happened to be the softest thing around it. The prisoner's skin. It would then begin a frenzied dig into the person's guts and death could take up to one or two hours.

He just hoped, prayed, that Robin would come before it got to that. That would definitely spell the end for him.

* * *

Allan lay flat on his belly staring at the gates if Nottingham Castle. Around him was a very tense looking Robin, a agitated Much, a stoical John and a worried Djaq.

"So how exactly are we planning on getting in? he asked.

"Somehow," Robin replied.

"But how Robin, please tell me you have a plan?" the Saracen piped up, her dark eyes full of fear.

"I'm….er…."

"I have an idea," Much suddenly butted in.

"What?" Allan asked, looking sceptical.

"Well, we could pretend we thought both Eli and Will had been taken by the Sheriff. That way we could trick Eli into believing we still trusted him."

"It could work, but you saw how emotionally detached your brother was Much, I doubt he would fall for it, he's too clever," Robin pointed out.

"I don't see anyone else coming up with any suggestions," the manservant retorted.

"We could go in disguise like we usually do," John stated.

"I think the guards should be recognising us more easily considering the amount of times we've been in there. Plus, the Sheriff is bound to be on high alert."

"We could go in disguise but in two groups, one lot could cause a distraction and the other could sneak in, rescue Will and get out," Djaq said.

"Alright, let's try that, simple, yet it could work," Robin nodded, "But who will be the distracting group and who will be the rescuers?"

"I am going to Will," Djaq announced immediately, looking around to see if anyone would dare defy her, "He might be badly wounded and need medical attention."

"Right, well, I think I shall go in the distracting group," Robin decided after mulling things over in his head, "I am probably the biggest distraction the Sheriff can get. If me and Much and John draw attention to ourselves and lead the Sheriff and his men on a bit of a chase around the castle on the opposite side to the dungeons then that will give you time enough to get Will out. Ok?"

"Yes, but what disguises are we getting?" Allan queried.

"I have an idea, how do you fancy becoming a woman Allan 'a' Dale?"

**Ooh, yeah, I did warn you. Sorry. The rat bit I found particularly disgusting but for some weird reason my morbid brain had to use it when I could've just used the Chair of Torture or Exposure! Eek! Send me to the loony bin! Review! Sorry shortish chappy!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Ok, this chapter starts off nice but I have to warn you, it does turn nasty! THAT WAS MY WARNING SO DON'T COMPLAIN! Review though, thanks.**

"Well, good day, my handsome guard. Aren't you looking fine today?" The guard looked up as he was addressed and gave a gappy, yellowed toothed grin, his greedy black eyes eyeing the woman before him hungrily.

"Why, 'ello, and what is a noble beauty such as yourself doing in the slums o' Nottin'am?" the guard asked sending waves of his stale alcohol ridden breath over the woman. Her nose wrinkled in disgust.

"I am visiting someone within the castle walls," the woman replied haughtily but then began tugging at her long hair self consciously. The guard sneered, he could tell she was shy.

"And what be you name?" he questioned, eagerly.

"Um…er…Allanena," the lady looked flustered for a moment but regained her composure, her sky blue eyes becoming confident once more," And this is my servant and friend….Jackella."

"What unusual names for two very pretty ladies," the guard smirked as a young, dark skinned woman appeared, "I'm afraid I can't let you through though. Sheriff's orders."

"Oh, but please, my good sir," Allanena batted her eyelashes, "You see, this is a very tense and distressing time for me. My wife…I mean sister, is having a baby within these walls and I must see to her." Allanena begged, her lips pouting slightly.

"Oh, alright, I s'pose, but you owe me a favour mind," the soldier let them past.

* * *

Once the two were out of sight and earshot, Allanena removed her hair and frumpy, noble's clothes to become a scruffily attired and considerably disturbed Allan 'a' Dale. 

"I can't believe that bloke was attracted to me! He was flirting! He believed I was a woman!"

"That was the point, was it not? You'll just have to face the fact you make a very pretty woman. I knew I'd see you in a dress one day." The once Jackella also removed her unnecessary garments and reverted back to her simple boyish clothing.

"Hmph," Allan muttered, "I just hope Robin's got this distraction sorted or this'll be the shortest rescue mission ever. Look at all those guards."

Just as he pointed at the said guards, as if on cue, an uproar erupted from the other end of the castle courtyard and they knew the mission had begun. They didn't have much time, Robin could only distract the Sheriff for so long. The guards sprinted off and Allan and Djaq slipped, unseen, into the castle passageways.

* * *

Vaisey marched out of his chambers and onto the steps flanked by Gisborne to be met with the irritatingly arrogant face of Robin Hood. He groaned inwardly. What could the annoying twerp want? Oh yeah, his little outlaw friend in the dungeons. He'd completely forgotten him. 

"Hood, what an unpleasant surprise," the Sheriff addressed the outlaw in bored voice.

"The feeling is entirely mutual," Robin replied, "I'd rather not be here but unfortunately you seem to have my carpenter and I would like him back."

"Who?" the Sheriff put a finger on his chin feigning puzzlement, "…Oh, the _boy_!" Vaisey clicked his fingers, "Sorry, I rather enjoy his company despite the fact he seems mute. Provides very good entertainment."

"What have you done to him?!" Robin yelled angrily.

"Not much, he's not dead if that's what you mean, though I doubt he'll be out of here in a hurry. At least not on his own two feet."

"What d'you mean?" Much shouted, stepping forward, his face livid with fury.

"Oh, just a few tortures." Each of the outlaws faces became even more agitated.

"What kind?" John spat.

"Um…flogging, burning, force drinking….the knee splitter. In fact, considering your boy is so stoical and insists on keeping his mouth shut to protect you, my jailer had resorted to the last face," Vaisey's eyes lit up with glee but Robin felt bile rising in his throat.

"And what would that be?" he asked, apprehensively.

"The Rat Torture," this received sharp intakes of breath, not only from the shocked outlaws but also the crowd of peasant spectators that had gathered.

"No!" Robin cried.

"Yeesss! And don't think you'll be saving him, I have you surrounded!" the Sheriff grinned happily.

"I think now would be the time to leave, Robin," John hissed.

"I know, I know," Robin nodded, eyeing the circling guards warily, "But we need to buy as much time as possible for the others."

"How?"

"Um…run?"

"Isn't that what we were going to do anyway?" Much frowned.

"No, run _into _the castle."

"That's mad!"

"And your point being? Do you want to help the others or not?" Robin smiled and charged off, sword in hand, he ran straight through a bewildered throng of guards and shot into the castle.

"Get him!" Vaisey yelled just as Much and John followed their leader, "Get _them_!"

* * *

Allan and Djaq made their way into the dungeons without much trouble as all the guards seemed to have disappeared bar two who they took out quietly and stealthily with no commotion. Then they descended the steps into the underground prison in search for their friend. 

Despite looking all over the cells all they found was a drunk peasant man rambling about 'stupid, ignorant guards' and another, bug eyed man with dripping gums and spindly fingers which he reached through the bars of his cell and tried to grab Allan with. He pulled away swiftly.

"Where is he?" Allan whispered urgently, worried for their friend's and their safety.

"I don't know," Djaq looked just as frustrated and lost.

"I do," a breathy voice issued from the cell with the bug eyed man.

"You do? Where is he?" Allan asked, jumping at the man and staring at him, "Tell us."

"Let me see if I have the right lad. Tall, dark haired, quiet? Came in with a couple of nasty wounds?" the captive wheezed.

"Yeah, that's him. Where is he? We don't have much time."

"I'll tell you if you let me out. I'm to hang tomorrow," the man rasped, his lips twisting into a smug smile.

"Why you little!" Allan cried and grabbed the man through the bars by his collar and banged him hard against the metal.

"Ow!"

"Allan! Shh, I can here something," Djaq hissed and put a calming hand on his arm. Allan released his vice like grip on the grimy peasant and listened too. He heard a muffled yell that made his blood run cold.

"Will!" he yelped and hurried towards the source of the noise. Djaq followed swiftly, as they both ran towards a particularly dark corner of the dungeons that was not lit by flickering candles in brackets.

Allan stumbled blindly into the gloom and suddenly found himself in contact with a rough material. Wood.

"Djaq, there is a door here!"

"Well, open it then," Djaq replied. Allan complied and wrenched the door open before tumbling into the hidden chamber. What both outlaws saw made them freeze in absolute, unbridled horror.

In the middle of the dingy chamber was a wooden table that looked pretty sturdy but it had to be if it wasn't to break under the strain of its victim's thrashing and writhing. Strapped tightly to the table was the current victim, the vicious bindings cutting into the skin on his wrists and drawing blood. But that was the least of his problems and not the source of the agonising pain he was experiencing now.

On the wall was a grotesque display of torture instruments, hanging up like some repulsive shrine to everything that was horrible and inhuman. Their jagged edges glinting menacingly in the dim light from the candles.

Djaq hardly took any of this in though, her gaze stuck on the man attached to the wooden structure, struggling weakly, sweat glistening all over his naked body and his chest heaved it was obviously the effort of breathing. And on this chest was a metal tin like object rising and falling in time with the prisoner's ragged breaths. It was strapped on with a leather belt around the man's torso so it couldn't be shifted. Stood over him was a weasel faced jailer, a glowing torch in one hand that he was holding on the metal pot, heating it.

"No!" she gasped and darted forward, bringing up her sword and with all the strength in her small, slight body brought the blade down squarely on the jailer's head, slicing his scalp open, all regard for the outlaw's no killing policy ignored. This man had hurt Will.

The jailer crumpled on the floor and Djaq, panting with exertion and adrenaline, looked up from his prone body to come face to face with the scrunched up face of Will. The young man was still crying in agony, hot tears streaming down his cheeks much to his embarrassment. Djaq didn't care. She moved faster than she ever thought she could've and, instead of unbuckling the leather strap, cut it open with her weapon. The metal pot came loose and slid off his shaking body to reveal a rat.

A huge specimen for its species, filthy black fur matted and drenched in perspiration from its scorching ordeal. Its tiny, beady eyes met Djaq's and although she wanted to hate it for what it had done to the young man, she couldn't. It had been in as much torture as the human and had seeked the only way it knew of surviving and escaping the torment.

With one last frightened look at the Saracen, its saviour, the rat leapt off the man and darted into a crevice of the wall, never to be seen again.

Allan, who had stood, helpless this whole time, dived forward and inspected his friend's body. It was a mess. A mangled, disgusting, stomach turning ruin of what had once been Will's chest. Long, burns spread across his skin, crinkled and blackened, with open gashes down the middles of them where the jailer had sliced the blisters. Around these grotesque scars were bloodied welts, some of which were oozing yellowish pus and others had crusted over with congealed blood. Livid bruises spattered whatever skin was left creating a paintwork of colourful swellings, black, purple, yellow, brown…

But all those repulsive wounds were not the worst thing. The worst thing was what the rat had done in its frenzied panic. Its assault on the carpenter's skin had resulted in a small, deep gauge around the bottom of Will's sternum. Tiny, angry red scratches were the only indicators of the sharp claws of the rodent which had caused this. Ringed around this mark was a thin circular burn caused by the boiling metal pot.

Allan turned and threw up on the flagged stone floor.

**Told you it was a bit gruesome. For some reason I just find I'm better at righting angsty stuff! Sorry if you just lost the contents of your stomach like Allan! Please review! In case you're wondering Eli will feature next chapter!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Yeah, next chapter! Thanks for the reviews! I hope you keep enjoying the read! Review again!**

He was clever. Eli would give him that. But not clever enough to trick him. He had seen straight through Robin's scheme. It was so transparent, the fact he had just randomly turned up in broad daylight, not even trying to escape. Eli knew had he wanted to enter the castle and save the carpenter he would've been much more subtle. This was nothing more than a distraction. A ploy to remove all the guards from their posts so the rest of Hood's outlaws could rescue the prisoner. But Eli would be there to meet them.

Eli had left the Sheriff's dimwitted men to chase the maurading outlaws whilst he headed to the dungeons. He strode down the corridor, his heavy guard boots thumping on the stone floor. He never understood the point of a guard's armour. Yes, the chainmail and metal plating sort of protected you but there were so many gaps at the joints where it could be penetrated that it was near to useless. The helmets were ridiculously uncomfortable, stifling hot in summer and terribly cold in winter and the boots ungainly and stiff making it near impossible to chase fleet footed outlaws.

That was why Eli had shifted the armour to make himself less weighed down but resigned himself to keeping the boots as he had no alternate footwear.

Upon entering the dungeons he heard hushed voices and froze, melting soundlessly into the murky shadows.

* * *

Will's knee was a mess; a mangled, gruesome mass of scarlet blood and muscle streaking splintered white bone poking out from beneath. Djaq had to admit that she had never seen a more grotesque injury in all her time spent working with her father. And what made it even worse was the fact this was her friend, her…

Allan nudged Djaq, wrenching her from her thoughts, as if to say 'What are we gonna do now?' The woman spared him a fleeting glance of irritation but her eyes quickly returned to Will's pained face and she immediately leapt into action.

"Alright, obviously he cannot walk so we must assist him," she declared, "But first you need to find something to cover his dignity." Djaq had been ignoring Will's nakedness up until this point but she knew he would not like to be dragged through the castle like that.

"Ok, um, from where?" Allan began to move.

"My clothes. In the corner," Will suddenly spoke, no more than a breathy whisper, causing both outlaws to jump in surprise. Allan nodded and hurried over to the bundle of clothes, they were tattered but wearable.

Returning, he swiftly helped Will into his trousers which were thankfully very loose fitting on Will's skinny legs but the young man still yelped as the material brushed by his wounded knee. As Allan began to try and pull the shirt over Will's head the hisses of pain soon told him that that was not the best idea and he opted against any cover for the man's chest no matter how gruesome it was to look at. The carpenter was in too much agony.

Instead, Will went topless and both Allan and Djaq offered support as he lowered himself off the table, wincing at every tiny movement, until he stood on one foot, leaning heavily on their shoulders.

"Why didn't we bring John? This would've been so much easier," Allan sighed, trying to cheer up the sombre situation. Will would've laughed but it hurt too much.

* * *

Slowly, they shuffled out of the torture chamber which would no doubt be imprinted on their minds forever and into the dungeons. The drunk and the bug eyed man were still there, wallowing in misery but as the outlaws passed the man who had first talked to them jumped up.

"Hey, hey!" he cried, rattling the bars of his cell, "I'll tell you som'in if yer let me outta here."

"Such as?" Allan asked coldly, barely paying attention to the prisoner.

"Lemme out and I'll tell yer!"

"Tell us, then we'll let you out," Djaq grunted under the weight of the young carpenter. He may be very thin but he was still bigger than Djaq by a long shot.

"There's a man, in those shadows," the man stated.

"Yeah, right," Allan scoffed.

"Hey, I told yer what I knew. Let me out!" the captive cried, frustrated.

"Whatever," Allan used his free hand and opened the cell with the keys he'd nicked from the jailer.

"Thank yers. I'm outta here!" Then the disgusting prisoner vanished.

"He was right, you know," a low, calm voice issued from the darkness and all three outlaws froze.

The speaker gradually emerged from the gloom, his boots barely making a sound as he moved and his cold, silvery grey eyes fixed on the limp carpenter whose body was heaving with the effort of staying upright. Will stared back at the man, pure hatred etched on his features.

"Eli," he growled. Both Allan and Djaq exchanged a meaningful glance. This was Much's brother, the man that had betrayed them all and put Will in this awful situation. They both desperately wanted to slash his throat but were stopped by the injured man between them.

"Hello, again," Eli nodded, "I am thoroughly impressed, by the way. Firstly with your strength and stamina, Will. I'm not sure I would've coped with the ordeal you went through. And secondly, with Robin's deviousness and your sheer inventiveness."

"It's your fault he was being tortured in the first place," Djaq spat angrily. They needed to get out before Robin's distracting halted otherwise they'd be trapped. Eli was just holding them up and prolonging the amount of time before she could treat Will.

"It could not be helped. Sacrifices have to be made in life," Eli shrugged, unmoved.

"Sacrifices? I'm not being funny, mate, but your head is messed up," Allan declared, incredulously.

"Sacrifices in jobs. I am never sorry for what I've done so don't even bother to try and make me so. But once a job is done then I no longer have to make those sacrifices and am not tied to a side."

"Look, you're talking gobbledygook," Allan frowned at the man.

"What I'm trying to say is that I am no longer Gisborne's man and I have a new mission which you could all be of some use in so…would you like a hand?"

* * *

Robin was barely breaking into a sweat but he could see both Much and John were lagging and he couldn't leave his men behind. Slowing, he came to a halt and waited for his friends to catch up. The guards were a little way off so they still had a little time to spare.

What he wanted to know though was where the others were. They should be out by now and the signal should have gone. Robin guessed they might have encountered some problems and hoped they would be able to overcome them. If they did not turn up soon though he knew he would go looking for them even if that wasn't part of the plan. There was no way he was letting more of his men get captured and tortured in the way the Sheriff had described. He just hoped that Vaisey was exaggerating slightly and that Will hadn't really been put through all that though it did seem likely with the Sheriff's reputation.

"Where are they?" Much gasped, grabbing support in the form of Robin's bony shoulder, "I don't think I can keep running like this, I ate too much pie earlier." Much was referring to when they had first entered Nottingham and been offered baskets of meat pie by a woman that fancied Robin. Not wanting to be wasteful Much had finished the basket after everyone had had their share. Now he was feeling rather nauseous.

"I don't know, Much, your guess is as good as mine," Robin shrugged.

"I can hear something," John suddenly butted in. Swiftly, he hurried down the corridor to a slit of a window and stared out. In the courtyard his eyes were met by quite a surprise. "They're out there! They've stolen a horse. Will's not looking good." He commented drawing the others over.

"Hey, isn't that, Eli?" Much asked, shocked, "What's he doing with them? He's a traitor!" Much didn't particularly like referring to his younger brother in that way but it was the truth and Much was an honest man.

"He's helping Allan get Will onto the horse," Robin frowned to himself as Allan mounted the horse after his injured friend and held him on the animal's back. Djaq mounted another horse but before she did that she said something to Eli who nodded and slapped the rump of her beast. Both animals galloped from the castle.

Robin breathed a sigh of relief, they were safe. Now they needed to work out a way out for themselves.

**Yeah, I rescued Will! Whoop! Eli helps them but that does not mean he's turning good. He's too 'messed up' as Allan puts it! Review!**


	12. Chapter 12

**hey, um. next chapter. Not much to say. Sorry for not updating. Keep reviewing! Christmas is coming!**

Robin jogged steadily through the woods, desperate to reach camp once again and find out what had happened in the depths of Nottingham's dungeons. Although he seemed to spend half of his present life down there the outlaw still could not get used to the repugnant, disgusting smells that lingered like a suffocating blanket, nor the blinding darkness that shrouded everything in a mysterious cloud of unknown or finally the scurrying rats and dirt that slimed and caked the walls making the dungeons the most unhygienic place Robin had ever had the misfortune to be in.

He did not even want to think about the fact Will had been in there for the good part of twenty four hours, alone and helpless to whatever the Sheriff's evil mind conjured up. He didn't want to believe all that Vaisey had boasted about in the courtyard, it was too repulsive to be true. No one could go through all that he described without breaking or dying if it came to it. The body could only stand so much torture. Yet, he had definitely seen Will, well, technically Will's body and he had seemed fairly immobile but the outlaw leader still held the hope that the young man was alive and still fighting for his life after all the torment.

* * *

Much ran beside his master, his legs falling into a steady rhythm as they covered ground in Sherwood Forest. His mind was awhirl with thoughts, some of anger, some of worry and others of guilt. He just could not get it out of his head that it had been his brother, _his _flesh and blood, that had put poor Will in that ghastly situation. From a distance it had been hard to make out the carpenter's limp body and any detail on it but even then the extent of the damage was obvious. The former manservant had seen the ugly, grotesque red marks on Will's torso and the swollen mess that was his knee. Eli had done that to him and Much had allowed it.

He couldn't believe he'd trusted his brother so willingly, allowed the man into the camp, the outlaws' safe haven, without so much as a thought. How on earth could he have been so stupid? It had been obvious when they first met him that the man held a callous disregard for human life. The way he had just grabbed Djaq had been so malicious, so cruel, he had no remorse for taking a life just to save his own skin. And that should've been a warning; Much should've picked up on the evil waves that were positively flowing from his brother's body. But no. He had accepted Eli back with open arms, with no thought about what life had been like for the man since he left and whether he held anything against Much for deserting him.

It seemed that in the time since the young Much had fled his dysfunctional home, seeking refuge somewhere faraway, Eli had changed. Changed dramatically from the small boy that followed the former manservant around asking about why a dog barked or why women wore dresses and men wore trousers.

Eli had been a very inquisitive, curious child with bucket loads of in-depth questions about why the world was as it was. He had wanted an answer to everything and the preteen Much had not been able to give them to him for he was just a simple lad. Much had always been sure that from an early age that his little brother could grow up to be very clever, something more than either him or his father, maybe a physician or an astronomer. Though it seemed now that although Much had been correct with his assumption about his sibling's intelligence he had not been right about what use his brother would put that mind to. And he felt it was his fault.

The man was sure that had he not been a coward and left his young, developing brother in the hands of that…monster, then maybe Eli would not be the man he was today. Just maybe, if Much had taken the boy with him when he left then everything would be different, Eli would be good, Will would be unhurt and Much wouldn't have this horrible, heavy lump in the pit of his stomach. But he couldn't change that now.

* * *

The three outlaws arrived back at camp, hurrying in the back way, between the rocks to enter the hidden alcove. Little John had to duck as he entered for the doorframe was too low for his height. They were met by a worrying sight.

Djaq seemed to have lost her usual cool, collected demeanour and was barking a frenzy of frantic instructions at a rather baffled and a little frightened Allan. The young man was darting around the woman's designated medical area searching for the pots and jars she asked for that contained 'ground this…' or 'powdered something else…'. The poor man's brain was becoming completely addled with so many orders and the endless array of identical containers spread out before him. His eyes widened and he jumped to attention as the Saracen issued another sharp command.

Lying on the bed in front of the woman was a very battered body. From the little they could see of Will, for part of him was obscured by Djaq, his injuries seemed severe and numerous. His body splashed with a multitude of colourful cuts and bruises like some gruesome piece of artwork, added to by a series of painful looking burns that contrasted, red, angry and puckered to his pale skin. It was not just these wounds that the outlaws spotted; it was also the horrendous hole, right in the middle of the carpenter's chest which made Much nearly lose his recently eaten pies. The groove in his skin was not deep enough to penetrate any organs, thankfully, but still hideous enough to portray a pretty good picture of Will's insides.

John made a gurgling, retching noise and hurried from the camp to empty his stomach in privacy. It was then that Djaq became aware of their presence. She looked up and inspected each of them for any bumps or bruises that they may have acquired during their escape. With her trained eye she soon saw that they displayed no obvious, life threatening injuries so she returned her full attention to her patient. She was just glad that John had not stayed long enough to see the ruin that was Will's knee. She decided she needed to patch that up and bandage it as soon as possible to prevent infection and the loss of anyone else's stomach contents. Also, the sooner she did it the better chance the carpenter would have of full mobility of his leg in the future, though that did seem quite an unlikely prospect at this point.

Robin had remained completely, utterly silent up until this point, too shocked and revolted by the state that Will's body was in. This man was meant to be in his care. He was meant to protect his outlaws but somehow he had let this happen. This appalling, sickening torture to one of his friends. Will was no more than twenty years old and yet he had endured this torment. The outlaw was struck with a sudden feeling of admiration for the carpenter's courage and strength throughout his ordeal. Not many men could've withstood what he did.

Though he may not have survived it, Robin reminded himself. From what he could see, Will still had many huge hurdles to overcome before he was back to his old self and healthy. The battle for his life was far from over.

* * *

Eli knew he could not stay in Nottingham castle, not after so obviously betraying the Sheriff and Gisborne in favour of assisting the wounded carpenter in his escape. He had been seen by all of the guards, who would obviously not hesitate in grassing him up and maybe even by Guy and Vaisey themselves for although Eli had not seen them whilst he helped the outlaws they could've been watching. That was why he had fled. Well, not fled exactly, left for his own safety. There was no point in staying at the castle if he was to be slaughtered after all, that would not help his plan if he was dead or captured.

So here he was, riding Gisborne's own black stallion towards Sherwood Forest in the hope that the guards wouldn't have the guts or the brains to follow him inside. Even if they did he would be ready for them. Woodland was good territory for him to fight. The trees provided plenty of cover and obstructions and unless you knew the forest reasonably well you were at a severe disadvantage. Eli understood Robin's choice of making this his home for the leafy foliage provided brilliant camouflage and although Eli knew he did not know the layout of the forest as well as the outlaws he was certain he could use his skill and intelligence to use it to his advantage.

Suddenly, though, he heard a minute crunch of a twig behind him, normally it wouldn't be noticed but considering Eli was on high alert and his nerves were already taut he heard the smallest of noises. He spun round only to be met with the heavy clunk of a huge, hard stick on his head. The young man crumpled to the floor, succumbing to unconsciousness.

**Ooh, I know no one may care for Eli but who's got him? Duh duh duuh!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Wow, I havent updated since last Christmas! And the Christmas stuff for this year is in the shops already. Yikes!**

Night had fallen on the silent camp. The blackness complimented the mood completely. Everyone was quiet, lost in their own thoughts of guilt and worry. Each outlaw felt the blame for Will's terrible ordeal fell on their shoulders and none could shake the feeling of helplessness. They could do nothing for the wounded man other than watch and wait and soothe him when the pain got really bad.

It hurt all of them when the carpenter began to writhe in his unconsciousness; agony searing through his limbs. They didn't know how he was coping inside because he hadn't woken up since they brought him back. All they knew was that his body was racked with pain a lot of the time, which wasn't surprising considering the extent of his injuries. Although Djaq had done her best it was still obvious how battered Will was. Especially the wounds on his chest and knee both of which seeped continually through the bandaging she bound tightly round him. The hole caused by the rat although not as seemingly serious as the gaping knee was now proving to be deadly as it oozed evil smelling yellowish pus. The infection was no doubt because of the rat and the openness of the gash.

Will wasn't the only person unconscious at camp. There was someone else tied securely to a tree as far away from him as possible. His head was drooping onto his shoulder and there was a large swelling on his head, blood matted his dark scruffy hair. He still had the undergarments of a Nottingham guard on, streaked with dirt. It was Eli.

John had brought him back, slung over one shoulder like the carcass of an animal that he'd just caught. When the big man had found him wandering around near the camp he had been overcome by anger and knocked the treacherous whelp over the head with his stick. He couldn't help himself; it was revenge for what he had done to Will.

They didn't really know what to do with him; neither Djaq nor Much could bear to look at him and spent the entire time averting their eyes when they walked past. Djaq just hated him for what he had done to the man she loved. Much's reasons were much more complex and ran more deeply. He felt completely and utterly betrayed for starters. His brother had so obviously used him that it was humiliating. By allowing Eli to play him, Much had put his friends in danger and he hated himself for it. Still, there was nothing he could do now other than make sure it never happened again.

* * *

Gisborne was annoyed. He had been duped by his second in command and the Sheriff was baying for blood. Guy couldn't believe that the boy had changed sides so quickly; just a short time in the woods and Hood had managed to convert him. Unless he was already one of them and he was sent as a spy into the castle. That irritated the Gisborne even further, the fact he just allowed the young stranger just walk into his midst.

"Gisborne! Get your snivelling self here right now!"

Guy of Gisborne groaned and kicked the bucket by his foot, spilling water all over the ground. He was given a sharp glare from the woman who had been collecting the water but he didn't really care. Storming back into the castle he didn't even spare the peasant a second glance.

"Ah, there you are, Gisborne, you took your time," the Sheriff said.

"I came as fast as I could, my Lord," Gisborne muttered.

"Not fast enough," Vaisey waved him off, taking a sip from the goblet of wine at his table. He liked to make Gisborne squirm and although he wasn't entirely upset at losing the outlaw – there was always another day – because he had his diamonds, he still didn't like the fact he was betrayed, no one should be allowed to embarrass him like that. Least of all a man that was barely out of his teens. Eli would definitely pay.

"Sorry, my Lord."

"Too right. Now, onto what I really wanted to speak to you about. We need to make sure that little treacherous protégé of yours doesn't have a chance to blab about how he conned us. So here is what I want you to do…."

* * *

Will had woken up. There was still a dull ache in his stomach and his knee panged often but he felt much better than he had before he fell unconscious. Must have been Djaq's healing medicines and the rest, he thought. He found he was terribly thirsty and the first thing he managed to croak was water. Djaq complied to this word immediately, tilting his head up and pouring the cool liquid down his parched throat. She smiled at him after this, obviously she was pleased at his lucidness.

She didn't force him to speak or do anything, just sat with him and occasionally brought more water or felt the temperature of his forehead. Will felt himself slip in and out of consciousness as easily as if it was a doorway. He floated along in a dream-like state. One second he was awake and the next he was asleep. But with each awakening he felt slightly less pain than before. And each time he saw Djaq she looked happier and happier. Which suggested that hopefully he was improving.

Sometimes he saw one of the other outlaws, but they only seemed one at a time – probably on Djaq's orders – he'd seen Allan, Robin and Little John but no Much. He hoped the manservant was alright. He didn't want to ask in case it was bad news. However not hearing his friend's loud voice around camp was disconcerting. The carpenter wanted to sit up but he knew that would just exacerbate his injuries and irritate Djaq so decided against movement.

It wasn't until one early morning when he finally, much to his immense relief, heard a low, murmur in a tone that could no doubt be Much. Will wondered why on earth he was speaking so quietly but then he guessed no one else was up so he didn't want to wake them. Still, if that was the truth who was he talking to? Straining his ears to try and pick up the conversation Will took a second to grasp what was going on.

"Here is some food; I'm guessing you are hungry. My friend, Allan, thinks we should starve you for what you've done but Robin insists that you must be fed. I have to say that I agree with Allan. Robin would too if he wasn't leader and a good person."

There was no reply.

"I hope you are somewhat remorseful for what you have done, though I doubt it knowing your record. I'm your flesh and blood yet you just took advantage of me and showed nothing but callousness to my friends. I don't think I want to call you my brother."

"The feeling is mutual," came a soft, barely audible reply.

"But I have reason!"

"So do I," the voice retorted, "You left me at the hands of our abusive father when I was a mere defenceless child. You could've taken me with you; it wouldn't have been too hard. By the sounds of it you have had a pretty easy time of it since you left. All I had was violence. You can't judge how I've turned out considering it's your fault."

It was Eli, Will now determined, his entire body tensing with anger.

"You could've escaped on your own. Why couldn't you have done the same as me?"

"After you left Father got a lot worse. He created a whole new meaning for the word punishment that you won't even believe. In fact, in one of his rages he actually killed our mother."

Much knew he should be shocked, upset, but he really wasn't.

"So then I killed him," Eli stated.

At this Much and Will both did a double take. Eli had killed his own father?

"It was kill or be killed. Though I can't say I regretted it. The look in his eyes when he realised I was about to finish him off was just about the most satisfying thing I have ever experienced."

If Will could've seen Eli's face he would've seen the smug half smile that Much witnessed. It chilled the manservant to the bone. His little brother was a murderer and he enjoyed it.

**Review! Please!**


	14. Chapter 14

"Ok, Will, that's enough."

"I'm fine. Let me try a few more steps."

"You don't want to over do it, Will!"

"I won't, I can do this, I know I….whoa…."

Djaq dived in to catch the falling man as he collapsed but she wasn't strong enough to support his weight. The woman found herself crushed beneath him as they both hit the floor, hard. She let out a strangled yelp.

"Djaq!" Will cried out. He tried to move himself, horribly aware of his weight on the small Saracen beneath him. His whole body was searing with pain after the fall but he didn't care, he forced himself up, ignoring the tearing sensation in his chest. Once on his feet he turned to Djaq and bent down to help her.

"I'm all right, Will, leave me alone; I can get up by myself." The Saracen pushed away his hands and clambered painfully to her feet. She was clutching her arm to her and wincing.

"What have you done? Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry, Djaq. Really. Oh God, I'm such an idiot!"

Will cringed inwardly, feeling disgusted with himself for not being able to walk even a few steps without falling and harming Djaq. She had hurt her arm and it was his fault!

"Will, it's nothing, I just landed badly on my wrist."

"Is it broken?"

"No, Will," Djaq managed a tight smile, "I'll just rest it and it'll be fine."

"Are you sure? Is there anything I can do?" Will asked anxiously.

"No! I can deal with it. You need to go back to bed, you are still recovering," Djaq offered him her uninjured hand, ready to lead him back to his loft. Will took it, feeling awful, mainly because he had hurt Djaq but also because there was a stabbing pain in his chest. It wouldn't go away even as he lay down but he was reluctant to say anything until the Saracen had completely dealt with herself.

* * *

Eli was stuck. Ever since that giant oaf had knocked him out he had been tied to the same godforsaken tree. It had to have been at least five days since his capture and he'd only been allowed free for exercise and to relieve himself. He'd been forced to watch the daily comings and goings of the camp and he was completely and utterly bored. The only interesting part of his day was when Much came to talk to him and each time he took great pleasure in regaling the manservant with tales of horror and woe. Eli loved to see the expressions of shock and guilt pass across his brother's face.

Most of the stories were true but some he embellished slightly with crude, unnecessary details that no one would ever want to think about. One true memory he did tell his brother had to be one of the most awful. It was late at night and all the rest of the outlaws were asleep. As Eli began his tale he knew he had Much hangin on his every word.

_I was playing in the yard. I'd finished my chores for the day and Mother was in a reasonable enough mood to allow me to mind my own business for awhile. I was about nine, I think. _

_Anyway, as I enjoyed the small amount of free time I had, I was approached by someone. A little girl. She was my age I suppose, maybe slightly younger, but she was tiny. Her limbs were like sticks and her elfin face gaunt with undernourishment. It looked like she hadn't eaten in days. _

_I had never seen her before. It was obvious she was a peasant but she could have been a recent orphan or just from a poor family. She had this kind of rash on her face that covered her nose and spread around her lips, it looked really red and sore. I don't know how she got it but my best guess is she hadn't washed in a long time and infection had set in._

_Well, I was apprehensive as she walked towards me, I had never been that familiar with any of the children in the village because they avoided our father and therefore me. I couldn't think what she would want. When she was about a metre away from me she held up her filthy hands, palms upwards and said in this really quiet, soft voice._

"_Do you have any food? I'm starving." _

_I didn't know what to do. We weren't that well off as it was and had little food in the house. However, I doubted whether she needed very much to fill her and I felt sorry for her. So, me being the naïve child I was, hurried into the house and stole a bread roll from beneath Mother's nose. When I gave it to the little girl she practically swallowed it whole; gulping great hunks down. It must've hurt her throat but I don't think she really cared. _

_After she finished she looked perkier, her eyes were bright and a smile found its way onto her face. She asked whether I wanted to a game. I had never had a companion to play with except you so of course I agreed._

_We played well into the afternoon; all sorts of games that she made up seemingly on the spot but they were good fun. I kept fetching her scraps from the kitchen and she took them thankfully. It was when I had just pilfered a piece of ham that Father came home. He saw me passing the meat to the little girl and put two and two together. The first thing we heard of him was a furious yell._

"_Boy! What do you think you're doing?!"_

_I was terrified and jumped away from the girl as if that would somehow excuse me from the crime._

"_Giving food to a beggar! Do you think we are made of money, boy? You stupid child!"_

_I knew I was in for a lashing but I didn't expect what happened next. Father charged forward like a stampeding bull and grabbed the little girl's arm with such ferocity I thought it would break. That was the least of her worries though._

_He dragged her through the yard and out to the back of the house. There he took off his belt and began beating her. I screamed at him to stop because he was hurting her. She was crying; shrieking. Each time she tried to escape he tugged her back and hit her harder. I'm sure even to this day that I heard her neck break as Father delivered a particularly devastating blow to her head. Her neck was so thin it couldn't take the pressure. Next thing I knew she was on the floor, completely still and Father was standing over her, blood spattering his clothes and his face._

"_That's what we do to beggars that come calling here," he grunted._

_That night he lit a fire and burned her corpse. No one in the village even noticed her absence. No one questioned anything. If she had had a family they obviously didn't care enough to go in search of her. One less mouth to feed I suppose. _

_Still, I never dared make any friends after that._

**_Review!_**


	15. Chapter 15

**Nearing the end now. Thanks for the reviews!**

Djaq was furious, in fact she wasn't just furious, she was down right livid and the reason for her mood was a certain young carpenter who had neglected to tell her that his stitches had torn on his chest. She had only discovered this when she had gone to check on him after she'd tended to her wrist. Noticing the red stain on his blanket she pulled back the covers to reveal his top, drenched in blood, and the wound gaping once more.

Waking him up with an angry yell, she ignored his huge eyes riddled with guilt and sorrow and proceeded to berate him for not telling her. Then she tidied the wound again, securing the stitches very tightly. She told him there would be no more movement for the next two days. He looked at her like a scolded toddler, all confusion and remorse but she did not waver. She even gained the support of Much who joined the conversation and informed Will if he did not stay in his bed then the manservant would be forced to sit on him.

To this statement the carpenter replied with such bitterness that the Saracen was overcome with sadness. He said, "So which bit of me will you be sitting on, Much? I don't think there is an inch of me that could take my weight let alone yours." The two other outlaws fell silent, stumped. After that sentence, Djaq was sure that Will would've stormed off if he could have. Instead he remained on his bed, staring them both out with granite-like eyes.

"Guys! Robin has a plan!" A voice cut over their uncomfortable situation. Allan came running into the camp with a huge grin on his face. Then he saw their expressions and stopped short. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Will spoke up, breaking his silence, "What's this plan then? I wasn't even aware we needed a plan."  
"Neither was I but then Robin reminded me that the Sheriff still had those diamonds that Eli nicked back off us and he wanted to get them."

"Oh," Will nodded, realising that whatever this plan was he wouldn't be involved and wishing he hadn't struck up the conversation – it would've saved awkwardness.

"Anyway, he wants us all to meet by the castle gate in about half an hour so get moving," Allan ordered.

"I guess I'm not invited. Perhaps I could stay behind and look after Eli," Will suggested, trying to not look too disappointed.

"Oh no, Eli is coming with us, he is central to _the plan_," the messenger outlaw replied, completely sticking his foot in it.

"Oh, right," Will said quietly, "Well I'll stay on my own then. Good luck."

Djaq turned to the man looking worried. She could see Allan's words had hurt him; it seemed as if they were replacing him with Eli, the man who had put him in danger in the first place. Obviously they weren't, none of them trusted Eli any more so Robin must have a good reason for using him. She didn't like the idea of leaving Will like this though, depressed and neglected.

"I'll stay too; to keep Will company and check the stitches don't rip again."

"I don't think that's such a great idea. Robin wants all of us."  
"An all of us that doesn't include, Will?" Djaq snapped, irritated at Allan's lack of tack.

"Well, I'm not being funny Willy-boy but you are an invalid right now and it won't do to put you in danger right after we almost lose you. You're alright sitting this one out anyway, aren't you, mate?" the older man turned on his friend, an almost kindly smile gracing his cheeky features.

"Yeah, sure. You go ahead, Djaq, I'm fine. Really."

"If you are sure…"

Djaq took one last look at the abandoned man before finding herself being dragged bodily from the camp by a very eager Allan.

* * *

Much and Robin were deep in conversation when the other three arrived. Both had grave expressions on their faces. To one side stood the rather isolated figure, tall and dark, of Eli, his head turned to one side so they could not see his face. He didn't look depressed or scared by his stance; in fact his posture oozed confidence and assurance; whatever Robin was planning obviously bode well for him.

The two friends looked up as Allan cleared his throat noisily. Robin offered them a cursory glance before turning back to Much and muttering something under his breath, jerking his head at Eli.

"I don't care," came Much's reply.

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"All right then." Robin gave a decisive nod and finally addressed the new arrivals. "You guys set?"

* * *

The Sheriff was bored stiff. The jester wasn't funny, the poet couldn't write, the musicians couldn't play and his day was being ruined by these useless, pathetic peasants. He wanted decent entertainment; a hanging or two would be nice. Even, dare he say it; he could survive another of Hood's dreadfully annoying plans just for some interest.

However, as he thought that thought he knew he would soon regret it. How soon on the other hand he did not expect. No sooner had the jester finished his insolent dance than none other than Mr Robin in the Hood himself marched through the door dragging with him a limp body and his little entourage. The Sheriff sighed, exasperated.

"Robin, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Good afternoon, Vaisey," Robin nodded at him, "Here I have one of your prized soldiers that tried to follow us into the woods and back to our camp. We have come here to offer you a deal. We give you this man and you give us the diamonds."

Vaisey couldn't help but splutter with laughter. Why on earth would he give up his precious diamonds for a dirty treacherous whelp? Robin couldn't have really expected him to agree to the swap; that was plain ridiculous.

"Are you truly serious, Hood?"

"Deadly."

"Well then, I'm afraid you will be disappointed. That man means nothing to me. You can kill him for all I care." The Sheriff tossed his hand in a gesture of complete nonchalance.

In spite of himself, Robin could not help but be pleased with the way his plan was playing out. He was worried that the Sheriff may have been suspicious of his unbelievable proposition but as always Vaisey's arrogance had one out and he didn't suspect a thing. Right now Djaq was in the process of emptying the chest they had located upon entering the castle in the Sheriff's chambers. Soon the diamonds would be back at camp and ready to go towards feeding several hundred hungry peasants.

"By the way, what happened to that carpenter boy of yours? Is he okay?" Vaisey looked terribly smug as he said this, expecting the worst. Robin was just as smug in his answer.

"Fine, thank you. I tell him you give your regards."

"He's not dead?"

"Nope, fit as a fiddle – well almost."

"Oh."

Vaisey feigned annoyance but truthfully he didn't give a damn. He was just biding his time until Gisborne arrived and then the real business could start. Why did his blasted side kick have to take so long though? This lack of time keeping definitely called for a dock in wages. To distract the outlaws even further, the Sheriff wandered idly over to Eli who had collapsed on the floor and nudged him, disinterestedly, with his boot.

"Looks a bit dead to me anyway. What would I want a dead man for?"

"He's not dead; maybe unconscious. John here hit him quite hard; call it vengeance for what he did to our friend."

"Ah…I see."

"Me too." A muffled voice said.

There was a flurry of movement and before anyone could do anything; soldiers and outlaws alike, the Sheriff had a knife at his throat and a triumphant looking Eli behind him. Everyone started in astonishment. The Sheriff just gurgled with shock.

"See, Sheriff, not so high and mighty now are you? Think you can boss me around and call me what you like? I don't think so. I'm neither your servant nor anyone else's and it's about time you learnt that…" Eli hissed in Vaisey's ear.

"And it's about time you learnt to be careful who you make enemies with." Another voice stated before a sword found its way into Eli's heart.

**There you go Radar-fox. Review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**I can't believe you thought Much capable of something like that! :O Anyway, on to the story…**

Eli's body slammed onto the wooden floor like a sack of potatoes, his head hitting the solid surface with a sickening thud. Blood pooled around his prone body from the fatal wound and oozed from between his lips; a definite sign of deadly internal injuries. Above him stood a rather sour looking Gisborne, his face set in a firm grimace. It was obvious that he hadn't particularly enjoyed murdering his own soldier despite him being a traitor.

Everyone in the room was silent, frozen by such a turn of events. One moment Eli had had complete control and the next he was dead at their feet. Still, Robin realised before anyone else reacted, no point hanging around for the guards to get their wits together. This was the perfect distraction to allow them a quick escape. It may not be that pleasant but in death Eli had proved to have helped them all.

"Much," the outlaw leader hissed to his friend, grabbing the motionless man's sleeve and gesturing that they leave.

"Eli," the former manservant whispered in return. With that one word Robin realised how much this event would affect his best friend in the future. Eli may have betrayed them all but Much couldn't help the fact he was a caring man. No point in dwelling on that however, they could deal with grief when they were safe, not in the middle of a heavily armed castle.

"We _have _to go, Much," Robin tried again, "I know it is difficult but he is dead and we're not. So _we _need to escape."

"I know," the other man nodded, accepting the fate of his brother and turning. The two of them led the others from the Great Hall, ignoring the outraged cries of the Sheriff who ordered his snivelling guards after them. But the outlaws outstripped the cumbersome guards with ease, leaping onto the horses which Djaq had prepared and laden with the diamonds before galloping off.

On the journey back to camp Much slowed down once they reached the woods and Robin shot him a worried look but he shook his head so his friend galloped further into the trees.

Finally alone with his thoughts Much let out an anguished cry. He halted his horse and slithered to the floor, collapsing at the foot of a tree. There he let the hot, salty tears flow freely; he needed to get this out of his system. If he didn't then he was sure he would break down at camp in the presence of others and that would embarrass him. They wouldn't understand why he was crying over a dead brother who he hardly knew and who had pretty much betrayed them all, nearly killing Will. Much didn't quite know himself but he was sure it had something to do with the thought that maybe, with time, he could've changed his brother somehow – converted him to the 'good side'. It was a dream but a good one. Now it would never come true.

Once the tears had stopped dribbling down his stained cheeks Much drew in a deep breath. He had to get a grip. Life would go on, just the same as usual; it would be as if his brother had never turned up at camp. The manservant would just have to forget, it would be better that way, not to mention Eli again. His brother had been kept secret all this time, vanishing in Much's past so why couldn't he do the same in the future? Disappear from existence.

With that decision in mind, the outlaw climbed shakily to his feet and whistled for his horse who had wandered off in search of edible greens. The animal returned and Much mounted swiftly, feeling prepared to face the others back at camp. It wouldn't be hard. Eli Ashdown would simply not be mentioned again.

* * *

The guards dragged the body from the Great Hall, trying to escape the Sheriff's furious shouts and abuse that he thrust at anyone who dared come within earshot of him. When he had discovered his diamonds had gone he had gone into meltdown, punishing anyone and everyone. You would do well to just leave the castle when he was like this, waiting for him to cool down.

So that's what these two guards had opted for. It may be the least sort after job usually but it was preferable at this time. Especially as the bloke they were carting off to the mass grave the Sheriff had asked for upon his arrival was Eli, the man who believed he was so much better than the rest. Just went to show that it was not always good to be clever and ambitious as it just got you killed.

Clouds were setting in, the world looked very bleak and dark, there was definitely a storm brewing. The weather sort of went well with the occasion one of the guards thought as he tossed his end of the corpse into the hole. There was no ceremony, not even any words were exchanged, just a simple throw and that man's body was gone.

* * *

Will was shocked when he heard the news that Eli had died but he couldn't really say that he was sad about it. No matter how much he cared for most people Eli would never be one of them. It was almost a relief to know that the twisted young man would never be near him again; his mere presence at camp had made him twitchy. Nevertheless, he couldn't help but feel terribly sorry for Much who had only just found his brother only to lose him again. He may have been viciously devious but Eli was Much's only family; had been Much's only family. Now the manservant was alone once more.

The carpenter guessed that Much wouldn't want to talk about his brother's death or even broach the subject of Eli because that was exactly how Allan had been when Tom had died. He'd burrowed into himself, closed himself off to the outside world for at least a month before talking to Will who was his best friend. Despite Much being a more open and emotional person Will was in no doubt he would be similar, maybe even worse, not wanting to burden his friends with his grief.

After coming to this conclusion, Will heard the soft pounding of hoof beats as the last outlaw made his way back to camp. The younger man braced himself, willing himself and the rest of the gang not to stare or overcrowd Much. Fortunately, as the former manservant stepped into the dwelling he was greeted with merely a few hellos. The dark haired man watched as a rather sodden Much visibly let out a sigh of relief at not being pandered and fussed over. He definitely just wanted things to return to normal.

Well, he may be able to return to reality but it would be infinitely more difficult for Will. Life would never be the same for either of them but in different ways. Much mentally and Will physically. Although his knee was gradually healing, the grotesque red gashes closing and fading to a dark purple, it would never be the same as before. He would have problems for the rest of his life with stiffness and pain. Still, at least he had some mobility. Scarring would be an issue too, Djaq had done the best she could but there was no doubt that his knee would not be a pretty sight.

Will sighed, that was the price you paid for being an outlaw, it wasn't an easy life at the best of times but in the worst you just had to stick it out – protect your friends until you drew your last breath. The young man would never have forgiven himself had he betrayed any of the group, especially Djaq.

Full recovery was a long way off for both him and Much but they would be supported the entire journey by their friends. They were as closely bonded as family and nothing could ever change that.

**Well, that's the end of the story. We've reached the finish...well almost, I can never resist writing an epilogue which is usually completely soppy and a stereotypical happy ending so watch out for that. Thanks for the support, guys!**


	17. Epilogue

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* * *

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Ok, this is definitely a happy ending. I have Mika's Happy Ending in my head now.

**Epilogue **

The tree's branches cast uneven shadows across his face; light illuminating his tired features. Lines that had formed over the years were clear to see, marks of his age. His body wasn't exactly in top physique, weakened with use. But still, the man did not care about any of things. He wasn't as young as he used to be but with age had come wisdom and experience; knowledge of all the wonderful things in life. He wouldn't go back.

Rustling in the leaves above his head alerted him to another presence in the forest clearing. He was fairly certain what or who it was but he didn't want to ruin the illusion. Ruin the illusion and you upset the child. Something he would never do if he could help it. Instead, he remained perfectly motionless, listening hard for any more sounds.

A giggle floated down from the canopy before it was abruptly stopped. No doubt the owner had realised it might give the game away. There was another scuffle with the plant's limbs before silence. He tensed, ready for the inevitable.

And he was not disappointed. Out of the branches plummeted a small blur, dropping like a stone onto his shoulders. The man felt his bones creak ominously.

"Rargh!"

"Ahh!"

"Rargh!"

"Ahh!"

"Ha! I scared you!"

"Yeah you did. You absolutely terrified me. I thought a monster had pounced on me!"

The child let out a delighted squeal, smiling widely.

"So, you fancy going back home now?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know?" the adult laughed.

"Well, I like playing with you but I am getting hungry."

"All right then that decides it, your stomach always comes above everything else."

"Really?" The child looked confused, as if the information it had just been fed contradicted previous life lessons.

"Yup, let's go." Despite his age the man managed to bend down and scoop the child into his arms.

* * *

Smoke rose out of the chimney of a small cottage, vanishing into the atmosphere. It was the sign of something cooking inside. The man couldn't help but be pleased about that fact, his stomach was grumbling too.

The pair stepped through the door and into the dwelling. Immediately they were greeted by a barrage of dogs, two in fact, which had been desperate to get outside. The animals skidded past his legs, almost tripping him up, and dashed into the yard.

"Oh Much, you didn't let the dogs out, did you?" A voice called from the kitchen.

"Sorry. I sort of had my hands full."

"I only just got them in. They've been full of energy all afternoon. Mutt knocked over the milk pail earlier. I'd been milking for a good hour; all wasted."

"Sorry," Much repeated, walking into the kitchen. That was what he loved about his home; it had multiple rooms and a second floor!

Standing over the stove was a slim woman, dressed in a blue summer dress, her mahogany hair tumbling onto her shoulders. Her cheeks had been stained pink by the heat of the fire and there was a glisten of sweat on her forehead. Much didn't care though; she was absolutely gorgeous no matter what.

Her name was Rosaline and she was his wife and mother to his children. They had been married for at least twenty years now. Much sometimes lost track because it felt like they'd always been together.

"That's all right. How was your walk?"

"It was great, wasn't it, Daddy?" The child piped up as Much set it on the floor.

"Yes, we had a lot of fun."

"I'm hungry. Is supper done yet?"

"Ellie!" Much admonished his daughter, grabbing her round her skinny waist and tickling her. She laughed wildly, wriggling to get out of his grip but failing miserably.

"No, no! Gerroff!"

The little girl collapsed on the floor, her knees crumpling beneath her as she giggled hysterically. Much chuckled with her, smiling first at Ellie then at Rosaline who was shaking her head at their antics.

"Supper is stew."

"Eurgh, stew again?" Ellie moaned from her heap on the floor.

"Yes, and you'd do well to be thankful, little miss fussy," Much told her, "When I was a young man we had barely any food. It was eat what you were given whether it was venison stew or squirrel on a stick."

"What?! You can't eat squirrels!" The child gasped, brown eyes wide with shock.

"You can, now go feed the chickens before we lay the table."

"All right." The little girl skipped from the kitchen.

* * *

Ellie or Eleanor Ashdown was Much's youngest child, she was seven years old, and the only one that remained permanently at home. The rest came and went when it suited them. Much sometimes grew exasperated at their lack of communication. It was as if they just expected to be fed and sheltered every time they turned up out of the blue.

The next youngest after Ellie was Piper who had left home only last month to live with a relative of Rosaline's, she was eleven. It was supposed to be a learning curb for the mischievous child who was always up to her ears in trouble. She was due back home when she was thirteen but that was if she had not married first.

Before her were twin boys, Godwyn and Merlin, they had taken a joint apprenticeship with a blacksmith in Nettlestone so appeared home often, always clearing the larder each time they came. Both, although only fourteen were giants, tall and muscular. They had been terrors when they were little and Much had to say he wasn't too sorry that they'd moved on.

The last three of his children were probably his greatest achievements. You weren't supposed to value some children above others but when Much was a young man he never would've thought he could've produced such offspring. The others still had time to catch up but it would be a hard task to better their success.

Third oldest was Fliss, short for Felicia, who had married four years ago. The man she had married was heir to Locksley Manor, in other words he was Much's best friend's son. Edward was Robin's eldest son, he was the first child conceived by any of the outlaws. The young man was named after his mother's father and was just as kind and considerate. He cared deeply for all the people of Locksley even before he became their Lord.

The couple had recently had a babe; that made Much a grandfather. It was a very scary thought.

Conrad was the second oldest and he was the furthest away of all Much's children –at the moment in time - considering he was in London studying to become a doctor. He had always been a clever child. Even when he was just talking he would be asking questions about the world. Conrad really reminded Much of Eli both in appearance and intelligence. But Much had been determined from the very start that he would not follow the same path. So Conrad's gifts had been put to good use even as a kid, learning to read and write along with Robin's children.

Last, or first, whichever way you looked at it, but certainly not least was Arthur who was a soldier. He was in the King's personal guard, just like Robin and Much had been in their youth. In fact he had even advised King Richard on a number of occasions. That was what Arthur was good at – other than being a fantastic swordsman – making the right decisions; decisions that would benefit everyone and be entirely fair.

Usually he was very far away, a fact Much and Rosaline hated but could do nothing about – Rosaline often wondered whether she would get a message telling her that her eldest child had died – but he had a month's leave to recover from a wound he had sustained in battle so had returned to Locksley.

Much was exceedingly proud of this son in particular because in a way he was continuing what Much had done in his youth, fighting injustice and protecting the King but also because, although he would never admit it aloud, he couldn't help feel smug that his son was doing what Robin's had never been interested in. And he knew that irritated his friend no end. But it was nice to get one up on his best friend once in awhile.

"Do you suppose Arthur will be able to tear himself away from the Scarlett's to grace us with his presence for supper tonight?" Rosaline asked from where she was ladling the stew into large bowls. Much smiled as the wonderful meaty aroma wafted up his nose.

"I doubt it. He is completely smitten and I don't reckon anything will move him."

"It is sweet though, isn't it? That he's finally found someone to love. I always worried that he would never grow attached to anyone for fear of being hurt. Ever since…you know." Rosaline had been referring to how Arthur had been in love with a girl when he was fifteen but she had used him and then dumped him in seek of a 'better, more successful man'.

"I know, well obviously Miss Scarlett is a perfect choice. I have not one bad word to say about her."

"Ha, isn't that just because she is your greatest friends' child?"

"Possibly."

When Arthur had returned from his service he had met and fallen head over heels in love with Emma Scarlett. She was the village beauty it had to be said. With her mother's exotic skin colouring and her father's intense eyes she even surpassed the Lord and Lady's daughter, Lucinda.

Arthur wasn't lacking in the looks department either. Tall and broad, with bronze hair and brown eyes flecked with gold and green. Even Emma, the usually immovable rock of womanly independence from men, could not help but be wooed by such a fine specimen – especially as their first meeting involved him catching her as she fell off a rearing horse dressed in his shining suit of armour.

Much thought they were the perfect couple though he knew Will had reservations. The carpenter (for that was still his trade) did not like the idea of his daughter being married to a man that would be abroad a lot of the time. He did not want her heart broken and for good reason, Much would want the same for his girls.

Just at that moment the discussed man wandered idly through the door, his eyes lost in a daydream.

"Nice of you to join us, Arthur," Rosaline smiled, teasingly.

"Mother," Arthur nodded curtly in greeting before tossing away pretences and hugging her tightly.

"Boy, you've grown too big and strong, you are crushing me," the small woman gasped.

"Sorry," her son looked suitably abashed.

"Food!" Ellie re-entered the kitchen.

"Hello, baby sister."

"I'm not a baby!"

"You are to me, little one," Arthur grinned before scooping her feather light form into his arms and swinging her in a circle.

Much moved closer to his wife and placed a tender arm round her shoulders as the two of them watched their children, the youngest and the oldest, play. The once manservant couldn't help but think how well his life had turned out to have such beautiful children and a lovely wife. It was a huge leap from his own childhood and he wouldn't have it any other way.

**That is finally the end. My story is finite! Sorry if the epilogue is a bit too soppy, I may have got slightly carried away with the kids but I always viewed Much as a family man so thought he would have a lot. xxxxxxxxxx**


End file.
